


Out of the Black

by hit_the_books



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Betaed, Bottom Sam Winchester, Canon-Typical Violence, Castiel/Sam Winchester First Time, Dean is Bad at Feelings, Explicit Sexual Content, Hand Jobs, M/M, Manhandling, Mental Health Issues, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining, Post-Season/Series 13, Protective Sam Winchester, Sam Is Bad At Using His Words, Sam Winchester Has Powers, Sam Winchester Has Secrets, Sam Winchester and Dogs, Sastiel - Freeform, Switch Castiel, Switch Sam Winchester, Top Castiel, Witch Sam Winchester, Yoga Teacher Sam
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-04
Updated: 2018-08-12
Packaged: 2019-03-27 03:34:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 27,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13872255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hit_the_books/pseuds/hit_the_books
Summary: Two years ago, Sam Winchester left his family and moved to the outskirts of Cody, Wyoming in order to protect them from himself.But now Sam's past is catching up with him and soon he's going to have to come clean with everyone. No matter the cost.





	1. The quiet life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The amazing [Threshie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Threshie) is my beta. I am so glad to have found someone to share my enthusiasm for this fic with.
> 
> The title for this fic comes from a Royal Blood song.
> 
> I started writing this at the beginning of February 2018 after a binge of Longmire s1. The location for this fic is Cody, Wyoming, because I fell in love with the area while researching it for another one of my fanfics. This is my first Sastiel longfic in quite a while, but I have been hankering to write one for some time.
> 
>  **Note:** This fic diverges from canon in several ways. First, it takes a massive twist from 13x06 onwards and also Bobby was the one who was resurrected by Amara, not Mary. I also assume that when Jack brought Castiel back, it also included his wings. And Lucifer is not a massive issue in this fic, having been locked up in the other world.
> 
> I cannot guarantee how often this fic will be updated, though I have already written four chapters. I'm hoping to post on a weekly basis, but I can't promise that.

A woodpecker’s persistent attack on the trunk of a nearby tree thrummed through Sam as he stood on the porch, hands wrapped around a cup of coffee that was just about at the right temperature to drink. Instead of drinking, he savored the bitter aroma as he gazed out across the brush, thick blue woolen blanket around his shoulders, over the gray henley and sweats he’d slept in. Under his feet, the floorboards he’d installed two summers back creaked, but they were solid. He looked down the slight incline that the cabin stood atop, eyes darting between the White Bark pines, seeing if he could spot the woodpecker.

The cabin had been a rundown mess when Sam had found it, foreclosed on many years ago. What funds he’d managed to pull together had allowed him to purchase the cabin just outside of Cody, Wyoming, and the small plot of land that came with it. The money had not all come from entirely legitimate means. Sam figured Charlie (Chuck rest her soul) would have forgiven him using a few of her tricks as he began a new chapter in his life.

Turning his nose from the cup of coffee, Sam sniffed the air and could almost taste Fall. The days were steadily growing shorter, and were certainly getting cooler. He’d finished chopping wood for the winter a few weeks ago, but Sam figured that cutting some more wouldn’t hurt.

A brief silence drifted over the plot and Sam’s senses instinctively strained for any sign that something was amiss. Then the woodpecker started again and a crow cawed nearby, the sound of life coming back as if nothing had stopped. Claws scratched on the wood behind him and Sam turned to find Wade walking up to him. The brown Labrador gave a yawn and looked up at Sam with hopeful eyes.

“Right, breakfast.”

Wade’s tail thumped against the floorboards and he nudged at Sam’s right leg. Sam chugged half his coffee and wandered back into the cabin. The space was clean and kinda cozy, but also open plan. Kitchen and living room bled into each other, pine table meeting the back of the large old tan leather couch Sam had picked up from a house clearance. A woolen blanket covered the back of the couch, every blue and green stitch known to Sam’s hands from the hours he’d spent working on it himself.

Hamil and Lexi (a Border Collie and a Norfolk Terrier respectively) pottered in from Sam’s bedroom, joining Wade by their bowls in the kitchen. They lapped at the water already available and then whined for food. Sam opened a cupboard door, pulling out the bag of kibble the three shared. Taking out a cup, he measured the right amounts into the bowls. Wade and Hamil got more than Lexi, if she let the boys eat their own food in peace, which was rare. It really was a good thing all three dogs would happily follow Sam on his near daily runs and walks.

Even better was that their neighbor would let them walk her land. Mrs Rhodes was a widow and a rancher. She appreciated that Sam was able to give her insight on which parts of her fences needed fixing, or finding animals that needed help. The sixty five year old would dote on Sam and his dogs, inviting them around a few times a month for dinner or lunch. She was Sam’s nearest neighbor.

Having filled the dog’s bowls, Sam washed his hands and began fixing himself up some breakfast. Carefully pulling out what he needed from his refrigerator and cupboards, Sam set about cooking scrambled eggs with bacon, potato, onion, green pepper, milk and cheddar. While Sam cooked the bacon, Wade snuffled over hopefully, his own breakfast finished, but Sam didn’t give in, not wishing to experience Wade’s farts post bacon.

“Bad” was an inadequate word to describe Wade’s post-bacon farts, but Dean would have never believed Sam that his dog did worse farts than him. _He’d still swear blind mine were a millions times worse_ , Sam thought with a flare of hurt curling through his chest. Sam chased thoughts of Dean away as he thought about the chores he needed to get done that day. His brother would never know how bad Wade’s farts were and that was Sam’s choice, his continued choice.

Sam used a slotted spoon to remove the bacon from the skillet, keeping the dripping, so he could begin cooking the potatoes he’d cubed. Aside from chopping more wood for winter, Sam needed to check the shutters around the cabin windows. The roof was winter ready, but November was only a few weeks away and he wanted to be ready for the first snows. Things could get bad if the winds picked up too much around Cody. His larder was almost ready for the days his dark blue Subaru SUV wouldn’t be enough to get into town.

Adding in the pepper and onion, Sam cooked them until tender, the potatoes pretty much there, then drained off the excess water and fat before adding the bacon back in. Sam beat the eggs and milk together in a jug and added that to the skillet, combining it with everything and then waiting for it to cook and set. Just as the egg started to resemble something of a pudding like consistency, he added some grated cheddar on top and waited for it to melt into the egg. Sam’s stomach was rumbling by the time everything had finished cooking.

Mouth watering, Sam served his more than scrambled egg on a plate, poured himself a glass of orange juice and took his food to the small pine table behind his couch. He sat down once he was sure the stove was off. Book open in front of him as he ate, Sam picked up where he’d left off in his copy of _Game of Thrones_ , having given in to curiosity a week ago and ordering himself in a copy from the only bookstore in town. He kept looking for differences between it and the TV series, but so far there were few, though he’d heard that later it became many.

Breakfast finished, Sam cleaned up the kitchen and headed off for a shower. Wade, Hamil and Lexi gently played in the middle of the cabin, content as they could be.

Sam got the shower going, the gas heated water making steam rise steadily in the small space of the bathroom. Getting into the tub, Sam pulled the shower curtain around him and ducked his head under the invigoratingly warm water. His locks soaked down against his scalp and then it hit Sam.

The quiet.

Panicked movements had Sam awkwardly shutting the shower off. He hardly dried himself off as he pulled his sleepwear back on. The dogs stopped their play and whimpered as Sam stormed out of the bathroom and walked the short hallway to the shared kitchen and living room. He didn’t have time for them as he grabbed his shotgun from beside the porch door and shoved his damp feet in some boots. Grabbing some spare shells, Sam yanked the porch door open and stomped outside.

He let out a long breath and ignored the flutter of his heart. He closed his eyes and the world around him slowed as his awareness spread out beyond his own skin. Something didn’t feel right, didn’t belong in amongst the silvered bark of the pines around the cabin. But he couldn’t get a fix on where the “thing” was, or even what it could be.

Fear licked at Sam’s skin and he opened his eyes. Ignoring the chill of the early morning, he stalked off across the brush, ears open for any sound that wasn’t the birds and other critters that lived around his property. Hunter’s instincts taking over, Sam held the shotgun out in front of him, ready to shoot, and swept around the cabin and his workshop. He checked every single ward he’d placed into the ground or carved into the pines, or where he’d stuffed hex bags under rocks. Nothing supernatural should have been able to make it in past the boundaries of his property. No one should have been able to find him without him letting them.

And not one thing caught his eye until he was on his second sweep. He was approaching the right hand side of the porch when a gust of wind made an eddy of pine needles and dirt rise up and spin.

Like a wing had given a tiny flap.

Sam swallowed and stepped closer to the side of the porch and finally made out a familiar head of unruly dark hair at ground level.

“Cas?” Sam whispered. The wards were distorting Castiel, he was laying on the ground partially within the property and- “Shit! Cas!” Sam hurried forward and dropped the shotgun.

Caught between the ward boundaries and the space between, Castiel had been unable to land when he flew there. Sam had no idea what his old friend was doing at his cabin, but familiarity, hope and trust made Sam bite down on the meaty part below his left thumb, hard enough to draw blood. Without hesitation, Sam smeared his bloodied hand across Castiel’s forehead and finally the angel fully materialized beside the cabin. For the briefest moment, the shadows of Castiel’s massive wings spanned the dirt and then they were gone to wherever they went. His trademark trench coat was nowhere to be seen.

Gentle with each movement, Sam knelt beside Cas and stroked his face, trying to rouse the angel. But he didn’t wake. Sam tried calling his name, voice climbing with each utterance, until Wade, Hamil and Lexi finally wandered outside with curiosity. Still Cas did not stir.

Wade trotted down the porch steps and stood on the other side of Cas. He leaned down and snuffed at Cas then licked him, but nothing happened.

“Maybe getting through the wards took a lot out of him?” Sam suggested to Wade. Hamil barked and Lexi tilted her head as she regarded the, to them, stranger.

“Look, I know we don’t normally get visitors, but… this is Cas. He’s family. If he’s here then I gotta help.” Sam ignored his throbbing left palm and hefted Castiel over his shoulder, getting him in a fireman’s hold. Slowly, Sam carried Cas inside and took him to the cabin’s only bedroom. He laid Cas out on his unmade teak frame bed and then jogged back outside to get his shotgun.

Gun secured, Sam returned to Castiel, but the angel was still unconscious. Unsure what to do and finally aware of the fact that his hair was damp and his sleepwear was sticking to his skin, Sam headed back to the bathroom, leaving his dogs to keep an eye on Cas.

The shower was rushed. Sam made a point of grabbing fresh clothes from his room while he had a towel wrapped around his waist and getting dressed in the bathroom. Awkwardly avoiding getting blood on his clothes. Once he was dressed (well worn orange plaid shirt and blue jeans on) and his hair mostly dry, Sam crept back into his room.

It looked like Cas hadn’t moved an inch in the ten minutes Sam had spent sorting himself out. He stepped beside Castiel and reached his right hand out to the angel’s left cheek. Sam felt the glimmer of grace within the vessel—Cas was still alive—and Sam again suspected his theory was right.

What wards he’d set up around his house were strong and had had time to make themselves at home, gathering strength from the surrounding environment and Sam. He’d come there, not wanting his old life to follow after him, desperate for no one to know he was there, so how Cas had managed to find him was still a mystery. Sam supposed that a strong enough tracking spell might have had the potential to finally get a bead on him. _Or Jack might have finally cracked and told Cas vaguely where I was._

After all, as far as he knew he still had blood out there. Dean’s hunting career was still going strong, if the stacks of newspapers Sam picked up from his PO Box in Cody were anything to go by. You had to know what you were looking for, but when it came to the local press for towns and cities across the country, Sam knew the signs. The familiar aliases of his brother that marked him out as the man who’d swept in and stopped a series of mysterious deaths here or there.

 _Please don’t let it be Dean,_ Sam hoped as he stepped back from Cas’s prone form, but a gut feeling told him it probably was something to do with his brother. With no sign of Cas waking up, Sam headed out of his bedroom, the fluffy trio trailing after him. Sam didn’t have a cell phone, or an internet connection—he would use PCs at the library in town to keep a track of online things. He had electricity and mains water, but only because Mrs Rhodes had paid many decades earlier to have it all brought out that far.

Of course the power could always go out whenever the snowstorms got bad during the winter months. And without fail, every winter it would go out for a few days here and there. During those days and nights, Sam and the dogs would curl up in the cabin, only heading out when the dogs really needed to go. Though sometimes Sam would have to dig out the porch first.

He could run into town and see if any of the cell numbers he’d memorized a lifetime ago still worked. But Sam didn’t want to leave Cas alone, not in that weakened state. Another part of Sam was worried about seeing Dean again and what loathing might be aimed his way. He’d left a few years earlier with a short note, convinced that it was what he’d needed to do, to keep everyone safe.

Nervous energy fizzled and crackled through Sam, with each moment he thought on how he had left Dean, Cas, Jack, Bobby, Jody, Donna, hell, even Crowley and Rowena, or Max Banes. Left hunting behind and hid himself in the wilds of Wyoming.

Sam took in a shuddery breath and felt his control snap and whip out, scattering his to-read pile on a side drawer unit, making a dozen books crash to the floor. Wade, Hamil and Lexi started barking in alarm and Sam tried to shush them as he went over to the books and picked them up, the crackle of power still buzzing inside him. With great patience, Sam slowly willed it back, taking deep breaths through his nose and letting them out languidly through his mouth.

Calm settled over Sam. He hoped that if he saw anyone else from his old life, they’d understand. Cas would certainly be the first test, if he managed to wake up. _He better wake up_. There was no way for Sam to go safely to live out in that world again. Each time he saw Mrs Rhodes or took a trip into town, he was taking a risk. But there were fewer chances for something to surprise him and send the energy within him spiraling out in ways he couldn’t control. And teaching yoga classes helped.

The irony of locking himself away to keep others safe wasn’t lost on Sam, considering how much he’d coached Jack to understand and control his own nephilim powers. He couldn’t tell Jack that that was why he’d run, because Jack would have just taken it to heart, blaming himself. When really Sam should have been more aware of what had been happening inside of himself while he trained Jack.

Aware of how what had once been long locked away and the key forgotten was able to finally creep out and break free.

Picking up the last of the books that had crashed to the floor, Sam stacked them again and then sat on the floor, leaning his back against the drawers, their handles dug into his back. Wade came over and licked Sam’s face, letting out a low concerned whine.

“It’s okay boy. Everything’s fine. We’re gonna make this right. Whatever this is.” Sam petted Wade and then Hamil and Lexi were pressing up against him, eager to be petted too. Chuckling Sam reached a second hand out and petted the dogs.

“Such a long time since I heard that wonderful sound,” a husky baritone voice called from the hallway.

Sam looked up, heart stopping. Cas was awake and standing, arms crossed as he not so casually leaned against a wall, blood still smeared across his forehead.

“Cas!”

His old friend gave Sam a warm smile, but stayed where he was. Sam noticed the tiredness in Castiel’s eyes and wasn’t shocked to see it there. It would take him awhile to recover through what he’d been through.

“You’re hurt.” Castiel started to walk towards Sam.

A twinge of pain throbbed through Sam’s hand and he looked down to where he’d bit just below his left thumb. “Oh yeah… probably should clean this up.”

“I could…?” Cas suggested as Sam got to his feet.

“No. I’ll use the first aid kit.” Sam went to where he kept it in a kitchen cupboard and pulled it out while the dogs wandered back over to Cas and sniffed at the angel.

“You have dogs,” Cas stated.

Sam used cotton balls to dab at the bite with hydrogen peroxide, wincing at the all too familiar sting from the substance. “The brown lab is Wade. The black and white fur ball is Hamil, and her short sweetness is Lexi.”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to heal that?” Cas took a few steps closer.

No way was Sam going to say to Cas that he needed the pain. That it would help him to not think about the things that made the room shake. Or the one thing that did. Pain kept Sam’s mind free and stopped him from doing any more damage. It was why he’d walk until every bone and muscle in his lower body ached. Or why he’d focus on chopping wood—anything to bring an ache, to bring the flare of hot stabbing hurt through his being. Even yoga was a good ache.

“No, Cas, I’m fine.” Sam put some gauze over the wound and then wrapped a bandage around it to hold it in place, taping it once finished. “What I do want is to know why you’re here. Has something happened to Dean?”

Sam turned from the kitchen counter he been at and found Cas right behind him. Concern was added to the edges of Castiel’s weary eyes, but Sam ignored that in favor of taking in their close proximity. He could not remember the last time another person was this close to him. Breath catching in his chest, Sam tried hard not to close the distance between the two of them, his body suddenly deciding to have its own badly timed needs.

“Dean’s missing,” Cas said in a low monotone. “Jack and Rowena can’t find him. Neither can Crowley.”

Sam swallowed, adam’s apple bobbing, and Cas watched the movement in full view of Sam. Eyes meeting, Sam stayed still, breathing hushed. There were a lot of words still left unsaid between them. A conversation that had been put on hold two years previously hung between them, ready to start again.

An unsure smile, more grimace than cheer, curled Sam’s mouth, and he stepped sideways and around Cas. “Missing huh? Was he on a case?”

“Coming back from one.”

Heading through the cabin to his room, Sam went to his wardrobe and opened it. He dug out an old duffel and put it on his bed. It was almost muscle memory, packing up what he needed, clothes finding their way into the bag with ease. From under his bed, Sam pulled out his hunting bag, filled with the things he still kept so he wouldn’t feel completely hopeless.

Back in the kitchen, he wrote a short note to Mrs Rhodes and put it in the back pocket of his jeans. Grabbing what he could from the kitchen, some bowls for the dogs, bottles of water, kibble—Sam started to load up his SUV. A trip to the workshop out back brought some more esoteric supplies to Sam’s haul, a small wooden chest filled with spell items Sam might need. It all too got loaded into the vehicle.

“It would be quicker to fly,” Cas pointed out. And he was right, anywhere from Cody would be quicker by angel or plane.

Sam looked over his shoulder as he shoved things into the back of the SUV. “No offense, Cas, but you look like a good breeze would blow you over. Plus I am not going anywhere without these three, so it’s my ride or nothing.”

Weapons and gear stowed, Sam grabbed a few other pieces of paper, details, for Mrs Rhodes. His instructions were clear—switch everything off if he wasn’t back in two weeks, take what food she could from the refrigerator. He had told her about Dean within a few months of them knowing each other, she’d understand his need to find his brother.

Not that he’d told her everything when they first met, just that he’d needed a change of pace. He’d leave the note in her postbox, she already had a key to the cabin. Locking up, Sam led Cas and the dogs to the SUV.

“Up,” Sam commanded and the three jumped up onto the back seat and let Sam fix their canine restraints so they wouldn’t go flying if he had to brake suddenly, or stop them if they tried jump out an open window. “You’re up front with me,” Sam said to Cas, unable to help the smile that he gave Cas.

The two of them got into the front of the car and Sam put on his seatbelt. Sam glanced over at Cas and rolled his eyes. “Dude, put your seatbelt on.”

“I won’t-”

“If somehow we have an accident, I don’t want you smashing through my windshield, okay? Put it on.” Sam started the engine.

Cas did as he was told, grumbling as he wrestled with the contraption. Sam ignored him and pulled away, giving the cabin a look in his rear view mirror as they left _This is dangerous Sam. So what, Dean’s missing—you could get someone hurt_ , said the voice in his head that was a reality check whenever he went near stressers. _I need to help him. No one’s found him, there’s things I can try…_ Sam sighed. _I gotta try._

Sam hoped he would be able to return.


	2. Missing

“Where was he coming back from?” Sam asked, breaking the silence that had settled since he’d left his note with Mrs Rhodes. They were traveling along the I-80 East after Castiel had told Sam to head in that general direction.

The dogs were on the back seat, chilling as best they could. Sam had to stop every now and then to let the dogs out so that they could drink and do their business. Still, Sam was glad that Wade, Hamil and Lexi were taking things so well—they always seemed to understand more than Sam would give them credit for.

“He was returning from a haunting he’d handled, in Conway, Arkansas,” Cas said. He looked over at Sam and he returned the gaze before dragging his eyes back to the road.

“Cas… how long?” Sam asked in a shaky voice.

“A week.”

A great many things could happen in seven days. Sam blew out a long breath, trying to keep his emotions under control, not wanting to crash the SUV. “When’d you start looking?”

“Twenty four hours after he failed to return at the time he should have… I thought maybe he might have found some company, but he was not answering his cell.”

Sam snorted. _Yeah, sounds like Dean._ “You talked to Jody, Donna, heck, Crowley? Asked Jack to look? Bobby obviously?”

“None of them could track him down.”

 _Hell_. “So Jack couldn’t?” Sam cursed under his breath. If Jack couldn’t sense Dean, it wasn’t a great sign. None of it was a great sign, but a nephilim not being able to get a lead on his brother was not what Sam wanted to hear. It was completely unrelated that Jack had never been able to get a lead on Sam. That had been a promise.

“He said it felt like Dean was being ‘blocked’ from him.”

Sam thought about the warding he’d surrounded his own home with. “Then you need something stronger, seems to me.” Checking the markers beside the road, Sam saw there was a rest stop coming up in five miles.

A plan started to form in Sam’s mind. Not one of the people who had tried to look for Dean was Sam or had the connection they did. They weren’t blood and while there were times where that didn’t matter, blood could make a difference in tracking someone down.

Ten minutes later, Sam pulled over into the rest stop. He grabbed a bronze bowl and a silver dagger out of the back of the SUV. Cas was watching what he was doing as well as flicking his attention nervously to the dogs who were growing restless on the back seat. Sam had shared his plan with the angel, but it was the only thing that was going to work at this stage.

“Sam, what are you doing?” Cas finally asked.

“Spell,” Sam answered simply. Resting the bowl on the lip at the rear of the SUV, Sam took the dagger and used it to prick the tip of his left index finger, silently apologizing to his hand as he did. He used his right hand to squeeze his finger, making several drops of blood fall into the bronze bowl, and the he added a sprinkling of several select dried herbs.

“ _Blood calls to blood_ ,” Sam intoned in Latin. “ _Blood calls to blood_ ,” he repeated, eyes focused on the contents of the bowl. “ _Blood calls to blood_.” Before his gaze, the herbs and blood mingled with purpose, Sam’s will shaping them. A bloody arrow formed in the bottom of the bowl, given body by the herbs Sam had used.

The arrow pointed in a south easterly direction, as far as Sam could tell.

“Why have we never used that spell before?” Cas asked in a grumpy voice.

Sam closed the tailgate and put the bowl on the driver’s seat. Wrapping a band aid around his finger, he went to the back passenger seats and let the dogs out, holding their leashes in his right hand. He ignored Cas. There had been so many times he’d wished he’d had a spell like this on hand, but only a chance encounter with a grimoire from a 17th century witch had taught him it.

“Sam?”

Taking the dogs over to some trees, Sam let them do their business, cleaning up after them. He didn’t really want to get into what he had been doing up in Cody for the past two years.

“Where did that spell come from?” Cas asked.

Sighing, Sam used hand gel to clean his hands and climbed back into the car, careful of the bowl as he did. Cas followed suit, getting in the passenger seat. Without warning, Sam shoved the bowl at Cas and told him to keep an eye on it.

“Sam, please answer my question.”

The ignition kicked into life and Sam started pulling the SUV away. “I found an old grimoire that I hadn’t seen before and found the spell in that.”

“I… I thought you leaving us was you ‘getting out of the life’, as Dean put it?” Cas’s asked in a hesitant voice.

Sam snorted. “He would think that. No, I didn’t get out of it completely. Still do the odd hunt. Still spend too many hours reading old books and falling asleep on them.”

“You still hunt?”

“Yeah, just not outside of Wyoming and usually not far from Cody. Sometimes go up into Shoshone and handle things like wendigos up in the forest. Surprising number of them around, though less surprising when you think about the gold rush that happened in the area.” Sam smiled at no one in particular.

“You can’t be taking on wendigos all by yourself.” Cas stared hard at Sam, but Sam didn’t return the look.

“Why not?”

“You’ll get yourself killed.”

He wasn’t about to give Cas the full rundown, so he didn’t dispute his friend’s claim any further. There was no need to deliver the full picture of what was going on, it wasn’t like it affected things there and then. No one needed to know his powers had come back, but instead of visions, he could move things with his mind, which had been all kinds of weird when it first started up. Just get him good and scared and it was amazing what he could do.

Back at the Bunker, just over two years ago, Jack had been positive he couldn’t control his own powers, but in-between showing the nephilim that had been a load of garbage, Sam had felt something shift inside of him. Down in one of the archive rooms, after getting Jack to move a pencil, Sam trawled the shelves, looking to see if they had any griffin feathers for a spell.

The air was thick here, the decades since the Bunker’s construction making it heavy and oppressive. Stepping forward, Sam felt the temperature drop and the skin on the back of his neck came up in goosebumps. But it wasn’t like the many times he’d encountered a ghost. No, it was familiar in a different way.

“Lucifer?” Sam whispered, terror bubbling up inside of him as too many memories clamored for Sam’s attention. The cold crested around the back of his neck and Sam shoved his right hand out behind him, trying to get away.

Glass jars eight feet away burst apart, shards raining through the air. Sam only just covered his eyes in time as tiny glass teeth shot at him.

Jack found him, an hour later, on the floor rocking and bleeding. He couldn’t convince Sam to move.

Hours later, Sam woken up in his bed, his wounds cleaned and bandaged. Dean was sat in a chair at the foot of his bed, asleep. That night, Sam started to make his plans to leave, because there was no way he could risk hurting someone other than himself. Not when a momentary fault in a thermostat could cause him to freak out.

And if he got hurt taking on some wendigo by himself?

“I can handle myself, Cas,” Sam reassured, keeping his eyes on the road. The SUV seemed too small as he felt the weight of Castiel’s silent judgment.

What Sam was really waiting for was Cas to ask the obvious question—why did Sam leave—but there was no sign of this being asked soon. Maybe Cas had learned more about tact in their time apart, Sam could only guess.

On their fourth stop, Cas took over driving duties, allowing Sam the chance to sleep for a time. The dogs were getting a little restless, but the regular breaks were keeping them happy to some degree. Sam slept lightly, head balanced against the passenger window in a way he had done hundreds of times in the Impala.

***

“Sam, the… compass, it’s spinning,” Castiel called from beside him.

Sam blinked his eyes open, not recognizing the landscape they had pulled over in. It was broad daylight—he’d slept the entire night.

“He’s near,” Sam explained and then looked in on his dogs. They were yawning and looking like they too were just waking up. And while Sam wanted to go and find Dean immediately, he needed a power bar and to take a leak at least. The dogs would be in a similar level of need.

Taking the time to look after the dogs and himself, Sam got Cas to find out where they were through Google Maps on his cell. They had stopped just outside of the city of Okemah in Oklahoma. _How long was I asleep?_ Sam wondered and then worried that maybe Cas had been breaking the speed limit in places.

Lexi padded over to Sam and nudged at him until he knelt down on the dirt beside her and gave her some attention, running his hand through her short coarse brown hair. Part of Sam felt torn over the fact that Dean needed to be found, but that he needed to pay attention to his dogs too.

A shadow loomed over Sam and he looked up to find Cas standing in front of him. “Sam… I didn’t want to say anything before, but your dogs probably shouldn’t come with us when we find where Dean is.”

Sam sighed. “Can you check on your cell if there’s a local dog sitter willing to take them on for the rest of the day?”

Thirty minutes later, Wade, Hamil and Lexi were exploring some stranger’s living room, but were happy. The twenty-something woman Daniella they’d left the three dogs with seemed friendly and capable, and that was all the reassurance Sam could get after handing over some cash for their care. She’d had a lot of good reviews online. Sam worried, but it would have to be enough.

It was time to follow the compass.

Sam drove and the compass spun more and more wildly. They slowly circled around Okemah’s blocks working closer and closer to the center of the small city that had seen better days. Pulling up outside what looked like a bar, long since closed down, Sam put on the handbrake and looked at the spinning arrow that Castiel held.

“Must be here,” Sam observed.

Cas hummed in agreement. “There could be anything inside of that building.”

“Then we better get Dean.”

Once the SUV was parked in a nearby side street, Sam and Cas got ready to head in. Cas with his angel blade, Sam with a handgun at his back, Ruby’s blade in his coat pocket, and another knife in a sheath on his right leg, hidden by his pant leg. In his left hand he held a crowbar. A few hex bags occupied his other jacket pocket.

They crossed the street to the bar, drawing little attention as no one was really milling about. What the bar had once been called, Sam couldn’t tell, because its sign had been ripped from its awning or had rotted away a long time ago. The windows were covered in slats of wood, most of the glass behind it long gone. It was surprising the building was standing at all, looking at all the cracks in the brickwork, or that the brick had even remained, considering how much it could go for on the black market for reclaimed brick.

Silently as possible, the two of them eased their way around to an alley that went down one side of the bar. Out of sight, Sam jimmied a series of slats off a side doorway and then worked the door open. Musty decay assaulted their nostrils as the door opened up. Inside there was little light, but Sam didn’t want to risk a flashlight, so he allowed his eyes to adjust to the gloom as he walked carefully in, doing his best not to trip over anything.

Cas put a steadying hand on Sam’s shoulder and the two of them listened and looked. In the little light from the open door, Sam could see a bloody mark on a nearby wall—a ward that reeked of strong black magic. A floorboard creaked from further inside the building and Sam picked up on distant voices, but he couldn’t make out what they were saying.

“This way,” Cas urged. Sam followed him closely, crowbar and handgun at the ready.

They quietly stepped through a narrow hallway, the voices getting clearer as they walked, closing in on a corner.

“He clearly doesn’t have it anymore! We should cut our losses and leave,” hissed a man in a slight Louisianan accent.

“I don’t care what you think, we have to be sure. And then kill him,” snapped another man with a similar accent.

A low throaty laugh broke out and it felt like Sam’s heart had been squeezed as he heard Dean croak out, “Just fucking get it done already. Mark’s gone. Just little ol’ me here...”

Sam couldn’t hold back any more, he stormed forwards, rushing past the corner, into a room filled with candles and camping lights. Both men wore cotton suits, but Sam didn’t pay any attention to their attire. The first guy Sam reached, he stabbed the crowbar through the guy’s left side, puncturing his lung and then kicked him away. Cas rounded on the other guy and punched him out cold just as he started to say a spell, but he didn’t get to finish.

Several boards on a window rattled as if from some strong breeze and Sam turned around to find a third man rounding on him, gun pointed at his chest.

“SAM!” Dean and Cas cried at the same time.

An almighty snarl ripped through the room and the third man was suddenly flung against a wall, back slamming it hard, making plaster fall. Sam’s eyes went from the guy, to Dean, to Cas and then to the three headed dog that was huffing and growling in the middle of the room. It had shaggy black fur and was three times bigger than a Newfoundland. Each head had different colored eyes that were trained on Sam.

“Can someone… tell me what the h-” Dean started, but was cut off as the three headed giant dog whipped around and finished off Castiel’s mark who had started to get up from the floor. Its massive jaws bit down on the man’s neck, bones crunching. The guy it had flung to the wall had his neck at a very wrong angle, and the man Sam had stabbed was no longer breathing.

The huge three headed dog put the man down and turned to Sam, panting and gave a happy, deep woof.

“Would someone _please_ tell me what the hell just happened?!” Dean shouted.

Castiel went over to Dean as Sam approached the three headed dog. Its eyes were all familiar. “Wade… Hamil… Lexi?” Sam said to the three headed dog.

The unnatural beast barked and wagged its huge tail. And then the massive form started to melt away until a Labrador, Collie and Norfolk Terrier were looking up at him. Sam swallowed hard and asked, “Cerberus?”

His dogs barked in unison and Sam tried to push this detail to one side as he turned to finally get a good look at his brother. Dean was unstrapped from the examination table he’d been strapped down on and Cas was healing him. Wounds sealed shut and blood vanished, Dean took a long deep breath and then looked at Sam.

“Decided to show, huh?” Dean gave Sam an unimpressed look.

Sam didn’t roll his eyes, instead he just remained where he was, his dogs snuffling around his feet. “Who were these people?”

“Styne assholes, from what I could tell. What with the accents and all.” Dean waved a hand at the bodies. “We’re gonna have to handle this before the cops show up.”

Stowing his handgun and retrieving the crowbar, Sam picked out several small hex bags from his jacket pocket and went over to each body, saying a few words before setting a hex bag down on each. The bodies burned in a purple flame and quickly turned to ash.

“Done,” Sam announced as Dean and Cas regarded him with equally skeptical looks. “Now, if you’re done being rescued, I’m gonna head on off.” Turning towards the way they’d come from, Sam started to walk away, already feeling the vibration of unhinged power coming to life inside of him.

“Hang on now!” Dean lunged towards Sam and grabbed his shoulder. “Don’t you think we’re due a reunion?”

Power snapped through the air and plaster cascaded down from the bar ceiling. Dean looked up as the dust settled and Sam already knew he would find a crack there.

“I need to leave,” Sam reiterated, making his way towards where he’d come from.

“We need to talk,” Dean growled.

“I’m sorry, Dean, but… but I can’t.” Sam started to sprint, running through the bar, the three fur balls at his heels.

“SAM!” Dean shouted after Sam, but he was out of the building and in his SUV before Dean and Cas caught up. Hamil, Wade and Lexi were in the back, no belts on.

“Hold on tight,” Sam warned the dogs, as he put the Subaru in drive. He narrowly missed hitting Dean as he peeled off down the street. _I can’t Dean, I’m sorry_ , Sam thought as his brother and Cas became small dots in his rear view mirror. _Please don’t follow me, Cas. Just don’t_ , Sam prayed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Of course Sam's dogs aren't normal. And of course Sam doesn't know how to use his words. He may sometimes seem like he can, but he's still a Winchester...


	3. Then comes the storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope y'all enjoy this chapter, even though Winchesters are here, yet again being bad at using their words and expressing their feelings.

Castiel must have heard Sam’s prayer, because no one followed him on the long drive back to Cody, Wyoming. The drive took over twenty hours, and Sam had to stop off at a few motels. With wards and hex bags he was pretty sure Dean wouldn't be able to track him, at least.

When Sam got back to Cody, he headed on over to Mrs Rhodes’ to see how she was doing and to let her know he was back. Wade, Hamil and Lexi came with Sam, but only because he wasn’t sure if he could leave them/Cerberus by themselves for the moment. They still needed to talk things over.

Heading along the long drive to Mrs Rhodes’ ranch house, Sam tried to ignore the low-key fear he had that Dean would be coming for him. _I almost dropped a ceiling on him,_ Sam thought as they reached the ranch house, but he knew Dean didn’t know that. Knew Dean was one determined jerk when he needed to be.

Sam put the SUV in park and cut the engine. Taking off his seatbelt, Sam turned around and looked at Wade, Hamil and Lexi. “You three better be on your best behavior once we’re in with Florence. Understand?”

The dogs nodded in unison, in a way unlike they ever had before. _Oh boy…_ Sam couldn’t start asking about the what and the why, because Mrs Rhodes, Florence, would probably be wondering why he was parked at the front of her home.

Trooping out of the SUV, Sam and the dogs went to the front door and he rang bell. They didn’t have to wait long until Florence was opening it up and beaming at them, her smile reaching her blue eyes.

“Why, Sam! Your letter made it sound like you’d be gone far longer. Did you find your brother?” Florence’s gray hair was drawn into a braided bun at the back of her head. She was dressed in her usual plaid and denim, always practical like the rancher she’d spent most of her adult life being.

Sam nodded. “Yep. Managed to track him down and hand him over to a friend who knows what he’s like,” he said in as natural a voice as he could manage. “He’d just got himself lost on a hunting trip. A few cuts and grazes, a sprain, but he’ll be fine soon enough.”

“Good, I’m glad to hear it. Do you want a cup of coffee? I just put the pot on and you look like you could do with a cup.”

Smiling, Sam replied, “You read my mind, Florence.”

***

The sun was getting low in the sky when Sam and the fluffy trio returned to the cabin. Florence had insisted that they stay for an early dinner of meatloaf and Sam couldn’t say no. He’d hardly eaten while on the road, snacking on the bare minimum to stop his stomach from growling angrily.

But even though he was finally home and had unpacked the SUV, he couldn’t relax yet. He needed to talk to Wade, Hamil and Lexi. So once everyone was settled in front of the fire for the evening, Sam cleared his throat and got the dogs’ attention.

“So, you guys. Are you _the_ Cerberus?” Sam asked, three sets of eyes on him. He half expected the dogs to become one being again, like they had while facing the men who had captured Dean. The dogs did nothing of the sort.

 _Figures._ Sam waited for an answer and Wade whined at him. Rubbing at his face, Sam gave the dogs a friendly smile. “Look, I don’t mind if you are. Not gonna kick you out. Just want some answers, hmm? So, Cerberus yeah?”

The three dogs gave an awkward nod together.

“Why me?”

Hamil snuffed at the air and Lexie put her head on her paws. Wade barked.

 _Right, no words_. “Did someone send you?”

Wade barked.

“Alright, one bark for yes, and two for no.”

Wade barked once.

“Someone sent you… was it someone I know?”

Wade gave one bark.

Sam thought who would have access to a creature that came pretty close to a hellhound, other than Hades himself. He didn’t know Hades, so he was pretty sure it had nothing to do with the god. Rubbing at his face again, Sam settled on Crowley.

“Was it Crowley?”

Wade whined and gave two barks.

 _Okay, who on earth would send a three headed dog to me?_ Because send was the right word. The three had turned up on his doorstep not long after he’d moved to Cody, but before most of the wards had been set. He’d even asked around town if they were anyone’s, but they weren’t. So Sam had taken the dogs in. But who else could convince Cerberus to keep Sam company and knew he liked dogs?

“I give up.” Sam slumped back in his seat and looked at his three friends. “You can stay. Just… don’t do the whole three headed thing when we’re around civilians, okay?”

The three barked a yes.

“But, if it’s the only choice to stop something bad from happening, then okay—you do your thing, okay?”

The three gave another single bark and Sam smiled. It was weird, but not the weirdest thing to happen in his life. And Wade, Hamil and Lexi were still the most amazing four legged friends he’d ever had.

“Oh, come here,” Sam declared, patting beside him on the couch. The dogs piled on, Lexi settling in Sam’s lap. It still bothered Sam that he had no idea who had sent his dogs to him, but they had had plenty of time to cause him serious injury if that was their intention.

Without even being asked, Wade passed Sam the copy of _Game of Thrones_ he’d been reading and Sam settled down for the evening. The fire crackled and sparked as he read, shoving down everything that had happened in the past few days. Even though he knew Dean would likely be moving heaven, hell and earth to find him again.

He just needed the time to put some mental walls up for when the inevitable happened. That was what Sam kept telling himself whenever his thoughts wandered away from the novel. It was all a lie of course. He would never be ready for the angry conversation that would inevitably come his way, in person, because he refused to have a cell anymore.

Not that a phone call would be good enough for the dressing down Dean would be hauling ass to give him. At least Sam thought Dean wouldn’t let Cas just fly him to Cody for this, but he couldn’t be sure. Cas would probably try to tell Dean where Sam was holed up, though he wouldn’t exactly be able to say, because of the magic Sam had worked.

Sam read until the fire was embers. He took the fluffy trio out so they could do their business, before going to bed. Falling asleep came easily, but sweet dreams did not.

***

Monday came and was delightfully dull by Winchester standards. Sam did his best to act like everything was normal as he and the dogs descended on the town of Cody to get the supplies Sam had been meaning to get before Castiel had shown up. The four of them went to several stores, getting together what they needed.

He ordered more gas canisters for the cabin, readying for the winter ahead. Essentials like matches, candles, a few new lanterns, flashlights and batteries went into the shopping cart. He made sure to stock up on kibble for the dogs, plus tins of wet food. Sam also grabbed plenty of human food, from tinned veggies, to various herbs and spices, plus frozen meats and more. It took two trips to get everything back to the cabin.

On the third trip into town that Monday, Sam looked into a few less essential things. He visited the only stationery store in town and picked up some fresh writing supplies. At the bookstore, he picked up a few more fiction books he’d been meaning to read, so that he could add them to his reading pile. He went to the yarn store and picked up some crochet and knitting supplies, mostly yarn. From the post office, Sam picked up a half dozen books on witchcraft and the paranormal he’d ordered in, plus posted off a few orders that he’d received for hex bags, and also picked up more spell ingredients.

There would be more trips into town in the coming weeks, but this was Sam’s day to get most of his preparations completed. His first winter at the cabin had shown him how quickly the weather could come in and he never wanted to be in that position again.

“You know you could just get a computer and do all of this from your house, right?” Audrey Collins, the post master, pointed out as she helped Sam with his parcels.

“I’m fine doing it this way. Seriously. It’s no trouble.” Sam put the parcels he’d received into a tote bag while Hamil, Wade and Lexi waited patiently at his feet.

“It’s normal to have internet and a cell phone these days.”

“I know. I know. But I just… don’t like having tech in my house, okay? Stresses me out, all that constant connectivity.” _How my brother might be able to track me down if he looked to do it that way._

“Ahh, I getcha. ‘Fear of missing out’, right?” Audrey said knowingly.

It didn’t surprise Sam that the wizened post master knew that was a thing. She was constantly keeping up with world news and trends.

“Right yeah. It got so bad before I moved here and I figured that it would be better if I just started taking things at my own pace, y’know?”

Audrey nodded sagely. “Wise choice. Look, Harold’s place has got a quiz happening tonight. First prize is a meal for two and a bottle of wine, for each team member. Wanna come back in and be on my team?”

Normally Sam tried to avoid too much contact with the people of Cody, but soon he wouldn’t be getting down from the cabin that much and he’d miss being able to walk around town so easily. He might be trying to keep to himself, but he still needed some human contact. Besides, they all knew about his online business and his yoga classes, the quiz could also just be some networking, help him stay solvent once things had thawed out.

“Sure thing.”

***

Harold’s bar was a nice enough place. Clean and light, pretty much the exact opposite of most of the dives Dean and Sam had frequented over the years to hustle pool and get info on hunts. Sam had dressed a little smarter than he usually did when coming into town, going with a blue dress shirt, top two buttons undone, and a pair of brown corduroy pants. He even had on brogues.

The dogs had been puzzled by how much time he’d spent fussing over his appearance, but Sam had not wanted to look like some kind of hermit. He wanted to look normal.

Heading into the bar, Sam found himself on a quiz team with Audrey, Jason Day the bookstore owner, and to his surprise—Florence.

“It was my idea,” Florence explained. “When I heard what the prize was, I figured if you could win, maybe you could take someone out.”

“Mrs Rhodes-” Sam began.

“It’s Florence. And now, come on, I know there’s been a few lingering stares. People talk. You just gotta find yourself someone to ask… before the snow comes.”

Sam swallowed. Sure he knew there were a few women in town and a couple of guys who’d flirted with him since he’d come to live out this way, but he didn’t realize his love life—or lack thereof—was public knowledge.

“You’re assuming we’re going to win tonight,” Sam pointed out as he started towards the bar.

“With four nerds like us? Oh you betcha we’re gonna win tonight.”

Turned out Florence was right.

***

Tuesday morning saw Sam back more to his usual routine. Sheep’s wool lined denim jacket on, he walked into Cody’s recreation center, which was located north of the post office. Wade, Hamil and Lexie were back at the cabin, so it was just Sam. He had a yoga class to teach—his regular Tuesday students would be waiting for him.

The air was more chill than when he’d last walked to class, not that the sweatpants and vest top he wore under his jacket were the best things for this time of year. He would have to start changing at the rec center again soon. Yoga mat rolled up under his arm, Sam smiled at the women and few men who he recognized from his class, waving back at those who waved to him as they clambered out of their cars.

 _Just a regular class in town_ , Sam thought to himself, keeping his rolled up mat close to him, the symbols on one side a protection against those who might search for him. The talisman he had fixed in the bun at the back of his head also added extra anti-tracking protection. So far the setup had worked for him and he didn’t expect today to be much different. _Not that any of this will help me if Dean’s already in town and waiting to see me._

Shaking his head, Sam tried to push back the fears clambering in his chest. He had a class to teach and Dean hadn’t turned up at all while Sam had been running errands the previous day, or taking part in the quiz. This was just lingering anxiety. N _othing is going to happen_ , he told himself.

Heading into the rec center, Sam was the first in their room and he started pulling out some communal bean bags around the edges of the room, in case the stamina of some of his students ran out before they could finish. He made sure the water dispenser the center provided was cool and ready, paper cups beside it.

Sam took off his jacket and put it behind where he would work at the front of the class. He laid out his mat, symbols facing the floor. Then he took off his sneakers and socks, and watched as his class filed in. Everyone there was paid up until Christmas, so he didn’t expect to collect any fees as they came in.

He greeted each of his students with a warm smile and once they had all assembled their mats in their usual spots, he welcomed the whole class. “I hope you’ve all had a good start to the week. If you haven’t, then hopefully our class today will help you readjust. We’re going to be examining twisting of the core today.”

Taking the class through a ten minute opening, Sam introduced his students to the actions of the spine and the kinds of movement they could achieve. Not everyone in the class was as flexible as everyone else and he made sure not to push anyone beyond their limits. Rediscovering yoga had left Sam incredibly flexible and he did enjoy how old hunting injuries didn’t bother him as much as they use to.

Walking around the room as they worked through the opening movements and poses, Sam corrected a few students on their breathing, making sure they exhaled and inhaled when they should. Once he was sure everyone was getting the hang of these twisting poses, he moved on to the dynamic warm-up, getting them to go through oblique curls on their backs, and then a few other twisting exercises.

Once they were into the main part of the class, Sam worked them through standing poses that connected to the day’s theme. His voice rumbled gently through the room, like a wave lazily cresting against a beach shore. He didn’t raise his voice, just kept it to a soothing tone that washed over everyone.

After twenty minutes had passed, he got everyone to sit on their mats and work through a series of seated poses. This lasted fifteen minutes and then finally it was time for a cool down.

“And that’s it for today,” Sam finally announced as a few people collapsed on top of their mats, sweating and breathing hard, but looking exhilarated. For those who found class trying, Sam passed out cups of water as everyone else helped themselves.

“Sam,” said Brandy, one of the younger attendees, auburn hair piled up high on her head in a messy bun, “there’s some guy outside asking for you.”

“Did he give a name?” Sam rolled up his mat.

“Nope.”

“What’d he look like?”

“Kinda tall, but not as tall as you. Serious green eyes, light brown hair. I dunno… hot? Thanks for a good class.” Brandy smiled at Sam and then she hurried off back out the room.

Dread made Sam’s stomach curl. Dean had caught up with him. Sam pulled on his jacket, chugged down a cup of water, put the bean bags back and then headed out, mat in hand. The keys to his SUV jingled in his jacket pocket as he walked through the rec center to the main entrance. He was trembling by the time he reached the double doors and seeing Dean standing in the lot only made it worse. Power crept up inside Sam unbidden, and he could feel it getting ready to leap from him like lightning from the sky.

His brother hadn’t seen him yet, so Sam dodged out of view on the main doors for a second and tried to get himself under control. He practiced his breathing, taking great care to inhale and exhale. A million times over Sam had imagined what this confrontation might hold for him. And he found himself hoping now that Dean would punch him, because the pain would give him something to focus on.

The last of his students walked out, not spotting Sam as he stood in a small alcove. Once they had gone, Sam stepped out and found Dean again, staring off across the lot. Probably wondering is Sam had tried getting out through a different door.

Sam swallowed hard and pushed through the entrance doors. “Dean,” he called, cold breeze snapping at his sweats, teasing strands of hair from his bun.

Slowly turning to face Sam, Dean looked at him, his expression grave. The fire of anger was unmistakable in his eyes. The steps he took towards Sam were swift and measured. He covered the eight feet between them in a single breath and his right fist found Sam’s face in a brotherly kiss.

Sam went down hard, knees landing with a thump and scraping his hands on the asphalt. His head rang, vision spun, but the power fizzled away for a moment as pain lanced through his body. Unsteadily, Sam looked up at Dean through his quickly swelling left eye.

“Dean,” Sam said hoarsely.

Dean punched him again, fist connecting with Sam’s jaw this time.

The world went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> P.S. Ouch.
> 
> I've got two more chapters written. Hoping to start work on the sixth soon. [Threshie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/threshie) is doing an awesome job of checking over my drafts.


	4. Family Greetings

“Sam?” called a distant voice that sounded familiar.

_But it can’t be Cas…_ everything was dark and everything hurt. Sam couldn’t see.

“Sam?” Cas called again.

Slowly Sam opened his eyes and then shut them against the bright light that flooded in.

“Wait, just let me...” There was a clicking sound. “Okay, Sam you can open your eyes.”

Sam opened his eyes and stared up at Cas who was leaning over the hospital bed he was in. “W-what happened?” Sam asked, throat dry, finally feeling the unpleasant pinch of an IV in his left hand. The room was lit by the hallway outside.

Cas hesitated and then cleared his throat. “Dean punched you, twice from what I’ve been told. He is currently being held at the local sheriff’s office. You suffered quite the concussion from what I’ve determined.”

“Is he awake?” asked a nervous and familiar voice from the doorway.

“Yes, Jack,” Castiel replied.

Jack walked slowly into the room and Sam could tell he’d grown a little taller and his face had lost some of its youthfulness, showing a more mature young man. But he was still Jack, just like Cas was still Cas. _And Dean is still Dean_ , Sam thought ruefully as he tried sitting up.

“I should get the doctor,” Cas announced as Sam settled into a sitting position. The angel stalked out of the room, leaving Sam with Jack.

“Uh… how’s things?” Sam asked uselessly.

Jack shrugged. “Okay, I guess? No end of the world stuff, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

“I wasn’t, but that’s good to know.” Sam winced. Whatever pain meds he must have been on were wearing off.

“Sam, I-” Jack started.

And then he knew how Cas had found him the first time. “It’s fine, Jack, really. Just uh, give me some warning next time if Dean’s coming on his way to punch me.”

“You don’t have a cell anymore.”

“Could have flown.”

“Not after what Cas said happened when he did.”

“Good point.” Sam winced again, but he wasn’t going to ask for any more pain meds once the doctor turned up. The throbbing in his skull was stopping him from freaking out. “Uh, has anyone been to the cabin? Wade, Hamil and Lexie, they need checking up on.”

Jack’s face broke out into a smile and he nodded. “They’re absolutely fine, though missing you. Cas let them out for a bit and I talked with them.”

The familiarity with which Jack spoke had Sam raising an eyebrow. “Say… do you know-”

“Cerberus is really good,” Jack remarked. “I knew they’d be able to keep you company. And you said you’d always wanted a dog and I wanted to make sure you were safe-”

“Uh, thanks Jack.” Not that Sam had a clue as to how Jack had managed to form an allegiance with a three headed guardian of the underworld.

“No problem, Sam.” Jack smiled again and Sam found himself smiling awkwardly back. Admittedly he’d missed his family, but the need to protect them had held back any urge he’d felt to just pack up the SUV and take a trip down to Kansas.

“Glad to see you awake Mr Winchester,” intoned an unfamiliar male voice with easy Wyoming charm. Sam hadn’t had cause to go to the local medical center in Cody before, which made a change from how things had been when he’d been hunting more regularly and living at the Bunker. “I’m Doctor Clark.”

The room’s light was switched on and Sam didn’t cow away from it like he had earlier. Doctor Clark came up to him and started checking his vitals and then his head for any further concussion symptoms. Sam sat through the motions, the routine annoyingly familiar.

Beyond the room’s door, Sam could vaguely hear Cas and Jack conversing.

“Do you know where you are?” Doctor Clark asked.

“Cody, Wyoming,” Sam answered.

“Good. And what year is it?”

“It’s 2020.”

“Month?”

“I’m assuming it’s still October. I haven’t been out that long, have I?”

“Thankfully not. It’s still the same day it was when you left the rec center. You remember what happened before you blacked out?”

“I was just leaving the rec center, after my yoga class… My brother punched me.”

“Twice in fact. He’s got a mean right hook, your brother.”

Sam gave a nervous laugh. “Uh yeah, he does.”

“You got someone who can drive you and keep an eye on you for the next few days? Other than your brother of course,” Doctor Clark asked. “I’m not too worried at this point. We were concerned about swelling at first, but we did some scans while you were unconscious and it looks like everything’s normal, and your vitals are good. We could keep you in overnight for observation, or-”

“Right, uh- I can-”

“I can stay with him,” Cas suggested, stepping back into the room, “and take him home of course. Though we’ll need to stop off at the sheriff’s office first.”

“Great. Just not too much excitement, huh?” Doctor Cody asked.

“Can’t promise that, doc. Y’know how family is,” Sam remarked and Doctor Cody gave a knowing nod.

Cas, Sam and Doctor Cody discussed a few more details, including further concussion symptoms to look out for and the promise that Sam would be brought right back if he had any. And then Sam was discharged.

The three of them headed to the parking lot outside the medical center and reached the Impala. Sam couldn’t quite believe that Cas was the one who had driven it, but here they were.

“I could drive?” Sam offered, which brought a glower from Cas.

“I would rather the concussed patient did not drive, thank you,” Cas sassed and he got into the driver’s seat. Jack went to the back without being asked and so Sam slid into the front passenger seat.

“Let’s go collect your brother.” Cas sighed and started the engine.

Sam could not fault Castiel’s driving.

***

Entering the single story red roofed building, Sam hoped that Dean had managed to not piss off the local law enforcement too much. Sam had managed to keep in their good books so far and wanted it to stay that way. Heading up to the front desk, he smiled at the clerk who was there.

“Hey, uh, we were wondering if we could speak to someone about my brother. Dean-”

“Sam Winchester!” called the county sheriff. Sheriff Thomas Mathers came up to the desk, tan uniform shirt straining a little over his strong shoulders. “I was just about to process that brother of yours, but if you’re up and about, maybe you could let me know if you’re planning on pressing charges or not, save me the paperwork if you’re not?”

Nervously rubbing at the back of his head, Sam gave the Sheriff Mathers a grateful smile. “I don’t want to press charges.”

“Great stuff.”

Sam was actually surprised Dean hadn’t been booked yet, but then he should have known that the sheriff would hold off. The man did credit Sam with saving his marriage. If it hadn’t been for Sam’s yoga classes, apparently, their love life would have completely failed by now. Of course Sam had no idea how much of that was true, but if it kept Dean’s fingerprints ending up back in any databases, Sam was happy to keep teaching Sheriff Mathers’ wife Rose.

Castiel and Jack waited at the front of the office while Sam was led out to the holding cell Dean was being kept in. Dean was sat on a cot, hunched over and staring at nothing but his hands. He looked more tired than angry.

“Dean?”

“Say, I’m gonna leave you two to talk a while, when you’re ready, let me know.” Sheriff Mathers wandered away from the holding cell in the direction of his personal office, leaving Dean and Sam alone.

The cot creaked as Dean shifted to his feet. “Thought you might leave me here,” he said in a weary voice.

“Well, you did knock some sense into me,” Sam joked.

Dean winced at that and came to stand beside the bars to his cell. Beige paint covered the bars and contrasted badly with the green plaid Dean was wearing over his t-shirt. “I would say I’m sorry, but well, Sammy, you did dump my ass back in Okemah. Plus there’s that whole more than two years without a word… Didn’t know if you were dead or alive.”

Jaw twitching, Sam nodded. He focused on the low throb behind his eyes, using it to keep himself steady as he faced Dean. “Yeah, I get that. But I’m not sorry either.”

“For fuck’s… you left me. Us.”

He couldn’t tell Dean why he had. That would just bring up endless questions and suspicions around whether he was drinking demon blood again. Sam hadn’t touched a drop since he’d made himself ready for Lucifer. But Dean always liked to jump to the worst when it came to Sam, so he didn’t tell Dean about being able to move things with his mind.

“I know I did.” Sam sighed. “Look, do you want out of here or not?”

Dean crossed his arms over his chest and looked Sam in the eye. “You gonna come home with us?”

“No. I’m happy here.”

“How the hell are you happy here? How?! If you wanted a dog back at the Bunker, all you had to do was ask. You could have gotten a real dog, not whatever the heck that was back in Okemah.” The more Dean talked, the more his shoulders grew tense and his eyes shone with the same anger he’d had when he punched Sam.

“Please, Dean. Understand I am not coming back.” Giving his brother a pleading look, Sam hoped that Dean would drop it, but he knew it was unlikely.

“I would have thought you wanted out from the life, but Cas said you still do hunts, just in Wyoming.” It was Dean’s turn to sigh now. He relaxed his arms a little and the anger turned to embers, sadness seeping in. “Sam, please. Help me understand why… why you left. Please,” he begged.

Heart twisting, Sam let out a long breath and tucked a stray strand of hair behind his ear. “I’m sorry Dean, I just… can’t.”

“Fuck’s sake, Sammy! None of this makes any fucking sense!”

Sam turned and started heading in the direction of the front desk. “I’ll let them know we’re done talking.” Tears stung at his eyes.

“It’s the blood again, isn’t it?” Dean shouted after him, anger creeping back into his voice.

Spinning around, Sam tried so hard to stop the tremor of power within him spilling forth. Voice trembling he said, “Dammit, you would think that, wouldn’t you, Dean? I’ve obviously gone dark side again, gotta be doing something bad. That’s why I’m hiding. Well it’s not.”

“Tell me what it is!”

“No!” Sam turned back to the door out of the holding area. Nightmarish visions of Dean hurt, because Sam couldn’t control it, flitted through his thoughts and he bowed his head. “Don’t come see me again, Dean. It’s for the best.”

Sam marched out, ignoring Dean’s calls. He let the front desk know that he still wasn’t pressing charges and that Sheriff Mathers could release Dean now. Stalking past Cas and Jack, Sam ignored them and headed out the sheriff’s office, picking the direction that led to the rec center.

His SUV keys jingled in his pocket as he walked. Sam was vaguely aware of Castiel calling after him as he trooped along, but Sam knew it was only twenty minutes to the rec center on foot. He could walk there and be back at the cabin in time for dinner. No worries. _It’s for the best_ , Sam told himself over and over as he half-marched, half-walked. _I just need them to leave me alone, not understand._

A spear of pain lanced through Sam’s skull and he bent over double, refusing the urge to throw up.

Cool as a spring breeze, a hand landed on Sam’s back. “Are you alright?” Cas asked, gently rubbing Sam’s back.

The touch eased the pain in Sam’s head, lifted the sadness and frustration churning away inside of him. Sam managed to stand up straight again and he faced Cas. “T-Thank you.”

Castiel gave him a warm smile. “You shouldn’t be alone. Doctor’s orders. Come, we’ll walk back to your vehicle together and then I’ll drive us to your cabin.”

“W-what about Dean and Jack?” Sam sniffed and wiped at his eyes, realizing he’d started to cry.

“They’re going to a motel.” Cas reached out and cradled Sam’s left cheek, using his thumb to wipe away the tears Sam had missed.

“But… Dean and Jack… alone?”

“They get on quite well these days,” Cas said in a way that suggested Sam would know this if he was a part of their lives still. “Now, I am sure that Hamil, Wade and Lexi are missing their owner. Shall we walk?”

Sam took a moment to reply, enjoying the weight of Castiel’s hand on his cheek. Heat rose to his face and he stammered out a “yes”.

***

“Jack sent these three?” Cas asked as Sam measured out food for the fluffy trio. A fire was burning in the fireplace, warming the cabin against the coming night time chill. Sam had changed into a clean t-shirt and sweats, paired with warm fluffy socks, while Cas had deigned to remove his trench coat and hang it on the back of one of the dining chairs.

Hamil, Wade and Lexi all looked up at Cas and gave a series of happy barks until the kibble hit their bowls and then they were all about their food. Sam dodged out of the way of wagging tails and said, “Yes. Uh, so yeah, they’re Cerberus. But they have very distinct personalities.”

“How did Jack make friends with Cerberus?” Castiel’s voice had gone an octave higher than usual, as if he was worried that his (good as) adopted son had been communing with paranormal creatures without his knowing.

Sam shrugged as he washed his hands. “I didn’t manage to find out that part.”

Sam’s four legged friends were not what Cas wanted to be talking about, Sam knew that. He knew his friend had questions he wanted to ask, but years spent around the Winchesters had certainly taught him some skills about talking to humans—avoid the subject until the person’s defenses were down and then bam.

At least that was what Sam was expecting, but as the two of them moved to Sam’s couch, mugs of hot chocolate in tow— _“Sam, I don’t think coffee is wise in your condition.”_ —Cas didn’t get to the point. In fact, the lack of interrogation was becoming disconcerting.

“Did you make this?” Cas was running his hand left hand over the crocheted blanket that Sam had made.

Sam looked between Cas and the blue yarn that he had use in the blanket and it took him a second to see that the yarn matched the blue of Castiel’s eyes. Another awkward blush rose to his cheeks— _what is wrong with me? I’m a grown man—_ and Sam nodded shyly. “Yes, I made the blanket.”

“It is a very nice blanket, Sam. Do you crochet much?” Cas took a sip of his hot chocolate.

“When I get tired of reading and don’t have any work to do. Yeah, I like to crochet.”

“How did you learn?”

“Books. Taught myself.” Sam ducked his head and gazed at his hot chocolate. But despite the conversation being focused on Sam’s crochet skills, he realized that he wasn’t feeling as stressed as he had earlier. The ebb of power within him was calm for the moment. Despite Cas being there, Sam didn’t feel like he was going to accidentally land something on Castiel’s head.

“You’ve done an admirable job.” Cas patted the blanket in what seemed like an approving manner. But it felt like Castiel was not just judging the blanket and instead his remark was aimed at the life Sam had built for himself out in Wyoming.

“Thanks.”

The two of them sat in silence and drank their hot chocolates. Back in familiar surroundings, the pain in Sam’s head didn’t seem nearly as bad as it had whilst trying to talk with Dean.

If Sam allowed himself to, he could almost believe that two years hadn’t passed since he and Cas had talked. That they had just paused for a moment and Sam had gone to make them both hot chocolate. A marshmallow bobbed clumsily to the top of the sweet liquid.

“Sam, before you left two years ago, you had tried to tell me something,” Cas began. He licked his lips. “Do you mind me asking what that was?” This was not the question Sam had been expecting.

Back then, the two of them had been interrupted by Dean and Jack walking into the Bunker kitchen. With the moment gone, Sam had walked out and finished getting ready to finally leave. It was the last time Sam had spoken to Cas until he appeared at his cabin.

But had the feelings Sam had been wrestling with then gone away? Every blush, every rushed heartbeat since Cas had come back into his life, told Sam that the feelings that had been ready to simmer over back then had never really gone away.

Swallowing around a lump in his throat, Sam sagged against the couch and sighed. _Do I tell him?_ Even two years ago, Sam worried about losing Castiel as a friend and he now worried two years later still that the wrong words might send Cas away forever.

_But would an angel really examine what I say in the same way another human would?_ Sam sipped the last of his hot chocolate and put the mug down on the coffee table. _Logically I can assume Cas probably wouldn’t care what I say… but I don’t know if things have changed for him since I left…_

“Sam, what did you want to tell me back then?”

_He might have someone now. He might not be interested in anyone._

“That I was leaving and not to tell Dean,” Sam lied. “Say, I’m gonna get dinner started. Do you want to eat with me or is it gonna taste like molecules?”

Cas squinted at Sam, as if he could discern what was really going on by just looking at him very closely. “Dinner would be lovely. Thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sam will come clean at some point... Just not this chapter ^^;


	5. The way I do

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, okay. This is a day early, because I am being dragged off to family stuff on Easter Sunday.
> 
> But hey, as it's a long holiday weekend here in the UK, it does mean that I've managed to write another chapter earlier than I normally do (I'm trying to have a couple written at a time, which is the most organised I've been with a WIP in... well... ever).
> 
> To be fair, I gotta work on a short fic for the Sastiel Creations Challenge, plan my Team Free Will Big Bang fic and start writing it this holiday, BUT... if I manage to get to Monday and have done that... I might start work on chapter 8 earlier than I normally would.
> 
> Anyway, happy reading all.
> 
> P.S. Totally recommend reading this fic and eating a bit of chocolate at the same time.

Shuffling out of his bedroom, yawning as he walked, Sam almost jumped as he saw Castiel bent over the coffee maker in the kitchen. For a few waking moments, he had forgotten that Cas had stayed over last night. He looked down at his bare chest and made to turn back into his room to get a t-shirt.

“Oh good, Sam, you’re awake. How’s your head?” Cas asked, glancing up from the coffee maker and turning to Sam. There was a moment where Sam couldn’t read Castiel’s expression, but his friend’s eyes lingered on his chest longer than he expected they would—even if Cas was just checking Sam hadn’t sustained further injury.

Sam cleared his throat. “Eyes up here,” he teased. Castiel’s gaze snapped back to Sam’s face. “And my head’s still hurting, but not as much as yesterday.” Without meaning to, Sam reached up to the swelling around his jaw and then his eye, touching the tender flesh and making himself wince.

“You know, I could-”

“No, Cas.”

Castiel frowned. “Why? You wouldn’t allow me to heal your hand either—why?”

“Because I’m fine.”

“But you’re not.” Cas crossed his arms in a way that reminded Sam of Dean, and furrowed his brow further. “You sustained a concussion yesterday. Your face hurts.”

“Just drop it, Cas, okay?” Sam crossed his arms over his chest, uselessly hiding himself. _I can’t risk it_ , Sam tried to justify to himself. _If Cas heals me, he’ll find out why, he’ll sense what’s different about me. What I’m hiding. I can’t risk that_.

“No.” Cas gave a frustrated sigh and uncrossed his arms. “If you will not allow me to heal you then I will continue to remain with you until you are healed.”

“ _Cas_...”

“I’m staying at your side, whether you like it or not.” Cas turned back to the coffee maker and pressed the brew button. The coffee maker spluttered to life and Cas went about getting mugs for both of them. He then grabbed the scoop for the dog food and set about filling the fluffy trio’s bowls. It felt like a small betrayal when the sound of kibble ringing against their metal bowls brought Hamil, Wade and Lexi trotting out of Sam’s room, where they had been sleeping.

“Guys, joint front!” Sam grumped as the dogs went to their bowls and started to dig in.

But there was no stopping the dogs from eating, nor Cas from handing a fresh mug of coffee to Sam as if he lived there. For the briefest moment, Sam considered what it would be like if Castiel did live with him. He saw himself making food for Cas to try, the two of them bitching over old tomes, lore—the best way to defang a basilisk. And they would finally bring a phone line to Sam’s cabin and they’d get Netflix, watching whatever as they cuddled together under Sam’s blanket, dogs at their feet.

Netflix binges at the cabin would only be slightly different than what the two of them used to experience in Sam’s room back at the Bunker. They’d huddled close then, gently pressed together, sometimes hands brushing together, each time sending a small spark of longing tingling along Sam’s nerves. Until one evening, not long before Sam had left his family, Castiel slipped his hand into Sam’s.

That was what Sam had wanted to talk to Cas about. Instead he’d flaked on everything and ran. Heart feeling like it had been twisted, Sam sat down at the kitchen table and avoided looking at Cas, because he couldn’t stand to think of the chasm he had created between the two of them. It was all on Sam and he knew it.

Now with Cas, Dean and Jack back in his life, Sam needed to give himself time to think. It wasn’t as if his control had gotten much better while living in Wyoming. _Maybe… they could help?_ But then Sam imagined yet again telling Dean what was really going on and watching Dean’s expression change from concerned to disappointed, as he automatically decided that Sam must be drinking demon blood again.

“Sam,” Cas said in a gentle voice, like the one he used whenever Sam used to fall asleep during their Netflix binges and ended up using Cas as a pillow.

He looked at Cas.

“You and Dean should talk,” Cas continued in that same gentle voice, like a purring engine, rumbling on.

“It’s gonna be hard to talk if he punches me again,” Sam pointed out. “Generally unconsciousness doesn’t make for very progressive conversations.”

“I’m sure that he would restrain himself upon a second meeting.”

Sam looked down into his mug of coffee. _He won’t talk, he’ll talk at me, but he won’t listen. “_ I can’t do anything to appease Dean now. And maybe he has a right to be angry with me, maybe you all do, but me coming to Cody? That was for the best.”

“I can’t tell if it was for the best if you won’t tell me why you came here.” Cas sat down on the only other chair at the kitchen table, mug of coffee between his hands. “All I know is that you left.”

Sam nodded and took a sip of his drink, letting the coffee’s bitterness fill him. His head throbbed, the life he had been trying to build for himself was at risk of collapse, but Cas was here. He was here and wasn’t leaving Sam to deal with his mess on his own, or so it seemed.

“Perhaps… perhaps we could meet for lunch at my favorite diner in town?” Sam suggested.

Cas pulled out his cell and then frowned when he looked at the display. “There’s no service here.”

“Uh yeah, that’s because of the wards… Makes it harder to uh... find me. Look, we’ll be able to get signal when we take the dogs out for a walk.” Sam rubbed at his neck and remembered he was only wearing sweats. Without warning, he shot up to his feet and announced he was going to have a shower and get dressed.

Cas gave Sam another look he couldn’t really read, eyes lingering on Sam’s bare torso yet again.

***

Miles of open land stretched on to the left of Sam, Castiel and the dogs. To strangers, the open country with its few details, occasional rock outcrops and pines, plus miles upon miles of fencing would look all the same, but Sam had come to know this corner of Wyoming well.

Hamil, Wade and Lexi pulled Sam along on their leashes as the five of them walked across Florence’s land. The sun was warm on Sam’s back, but the air had a nip to it so Sam had on a down padded red vest along with his usual plaid and denim. Cas looked the odd one out as they walked through long grass of the pasture—his trench coat wafting out around him like it often did. The tan fabric of the coat along with Castiel’s usual dress shirt, tie and slacks looked unsuited to their surroundings.

Sam hoped that Florence didn’t spot them and start asking questions, and he wished he’d had the sense to offer Cas some alternative attire. Cas not looking out of place was the least of Sam’s worries, though.

“Okay, Dean has agreed to meet us at the diner. He says he’ll be there by one.” Cas stowed his cell phone.

_Right…_ “Great.” It was far from great, but Sam turned to look at Cas and found the angel giving him an earnest and hopeful look that he had no chance in hell, heaven or earth of saying no to.

Changing tact, Cas said, “I noticed that you appear to be ready for the coming winter. There must be a lot of planning involved for the season in a place such as this?”

Sam nodded and continued to follow the dogs as they walked. To their left, half a mile away was part of Florence’s cattle herd. She didn’t keep as many animals as she used to, she’d told Sam once, but she still couldn’t bring herself to fully leave the business. Soon she’d have some farmhands in to help drive the animals back towards the center of the ranch and the barns she kept there.

“It must be tough living out here when the snows come.” Cas was walking closer to Sam now, almost as if he were worried that news of their impending meeting with Dean would send Sam running away.

“We manage. I make sure I chop plenty of firewood. Get in plenty of supplies in ahead of time. Even have a backup generator if the power’s out for too long.” Sam tried to ignore just how close Cas had gotten, but it was difficult to ignore the way his arms had become covered in goosebumps under his shirt sleeves.

“Still, holed up in the cabin with only Hamil, Wade and Lexi for company… must get very lonely.”

“It’s actually quite nice… I mean, there’s times I wish I could get into town and see a friendly face or two. But mostly I just trek over to Florence and see how she’s doing.”

“Mrs Rhodes seems like a very nice person.”

“She is.” Sam couldn’t tell what Cas was getting at. Florence, Mrs Rhodes, was just a neighbor who Sam was friends with.

“So you’re friends?”

“Yeah, just friends.” Something seemed to flap in the air behind them as soon as Sam had confirmed that, air slapping against the back of his neck. The dogs glanced behind them. _Was that Cas flapping his wings?_ Sam wondered. _And why does Cas care if Florence and I are friends? Wait…_ It dawned on Sam that there was the slightest possibility that Cas was worried Sam was dating his neighbor.

“But since being in Cody, have you… made many friends?”

“I know people. Sometimes they buy me drinks. Sometimes they tip me after yoga classes. A few I would call friends I suppose.”

“But nothing more?”

“Right. Nothing more.”

The air shifted again as if being stirred by almighty wings. _What is with that?_ It was almost like it was some kind of territorial act, Cas wordlessly crowing that everyone needed to back off. The fluffy trio looked back again and Lexi gave an unimpressed snort before the three of them continued to trot on ahead, straining their leashes.

And okay, if Sam considered the evidence of how things had been between them before he’d left two years ago, maybe there was the distinct possibility that Castiel felt an inkling of attraction to him. If Cas had been a human, Sam would have expected him to have moved on by now, but then two years wouldn’t be that long to a being as ancient as Castiel.

Sam was having difficulties trying to marry up Castiel’s trains of thought. From the weather that would be heading to Cody in the coming months, to questions trying to find out if Sam was seeing anyone? Cas was all over the place. Sam had half expected their walk to turn into a discussion of how to handle Dean once they were at the diner later. As the five of them turned around to head back to the cabin, Sam noticed that the conversation still didn’t head the way he had been expecting.

Once back at the cabin, there wasn’t much time before they needed to start heading into Cody proper. Sam made sure the fluffy trio were okay to weather the afternoon with just themselves for company (because Sam figured Dean didn’t want to see them again too soon, if his previous comments were anything to go by), then he grabbed his car keys and ushered Cas out to the SUV.

***

First to arrive at Folder’s Diner, Sam picked out a booth near the back where hopefully they wouldn’t be overheard too much. Sam having company with him would be unusual enough to at least stop the regulars who came to share their meals with Sam.

He usually found himself at Folder’s once a week, normally after a yoga class. Sam would order pancakes and a chamomile tea, and local folk would come in drips and drabs to see him, like he was holding court. He was welcome in Cody like he had never been anywhere else. The folk that saw Sam would quietly ask him for hex bags and a little spell work here and there. William Folder who owned the diner had threatened Sam with charging rent, but then Sam had given him a fair few freebies and it was only ever said again in jest.

“This is… nice,” Cas proclaimed, taking a seat beside Sam, as if he could act as some kind of buffer once Dean turned up with Jack. Sam worked on his breathing and reflected on the pain he still felt, trying to keep himself steady.

They had coffees in front of them by the time Dean and Jack appeared. Jack strode over to the booth like nothing was wrong, beaming at Sam and Cas. Dean walked along slowly, shades on, looking like he’d drunk far too much.

“We got invited to a poker game last night!” Jack blurted out as he slid into the booth on the opposite side.

Sam quirked an eyebrow and looked up at Dean. His brother slid into the booth beside Jack.

“So I'm assuming you accepted the invitation, then?” Sam picked up his mug of coffee and took a sip.

Dean groaned and buried his face between his arms as he used them as a pillow on the tabletop.

“Did you guys lose much at the game?” Sam asked casually.

Dean peered up over his arms and the tops of his sunshades. “No we won… and then I made the mistake of drinking with Jack and a few other guys. Don’t worry, Jack’s fine.” Dean slumped down again.

Sam chuckled. “Can’t hold your drink like you used to, huh?”

“Ha, ha, real funny. Yeah, the old man can’t handle his drink.”

“Who were you drinking with?” Cas asked.

“A couple of Brits and Jack,” Dean answered.

Sam recalled what it had been like to spend a night drinking with Mick Davies, one of the British Men of Letters, not long before the other man had died. Mick had managed to drink Sam and Dean under the table, and woke up the following morning like he hadn’t spent the good part of the night before waging war against his liver. And of course a nephilim like Jack wasn’t going to get that drunk if at all.

“There’s your mistake. You were trying to keep up with a bunch of Brits _and Jack_.” Sam sipped his coffee again.

“I shoulda learned after Mick,” Dean admitted.

“Mick?” Jack asked.

“One of the British Men of Letters… wasn’t a bad guy.” Sam caught Will’s eye and waved him over to their booth.

The diner owner strolled over. “What can I get you boys?”

Sam had the chili, Dean and Jack had cheeseburgers with fries, and Cas asked for a large plate of fries to offer the pretense of eating. Conversation at the booth stayed on reasonably safe topics while they waited for their food and then started to eat. Dean knocked back some aspirin with his coffee and Jack used his fries to draw a smiley face in a huge pool of ketchup he’d somehow ended up with on his plate.

Jody and the girls were good, so was Donna. Bobby was still puttering around and had rebuilt his old place. Crowley was still in charge of hell, having to fight the odd rebellion. Rowena was about, but no one was really sure what she was doing. The Banes twins sometimes visited and went on hunts with Dean, Cas and Jack.

Everyone, it seemed, was doing just great without Sam.

“Everyone’s just great,” Dean summarized in a monotone voice, echoing Sam’s thoughts. “I mean, sure worried about where you’d been for the past two years, but hey, whatever.” Dean took a casual sip of coffee, but Sam could see the anger bristling through Dean’s fingers as he clasped the coffee mug.

Tensing in his seat, Sam nonchalantly spooned some chili into his mouth and tried to swallow without choking, but his throat felt thick. Any second now, Dean was going to ask why Sam had left. Any second.

“So… why’d you leave Kansas, Sam? Why’d you run?” Dean stuffed a fry into his mouth and chewed thoughtfully.

Sam licked his lips and put his spoon down. “Because I had to, Dean.”

Cas tensed beside him and Sam noticed Jack looking worriedly between Dean and Sam.

“That’s a shit explanation.” Dean waved a fry in his direction. At least it was a fry and not a punch.

Sam pulled out his wallet and put down what he owed for his food, plus a tip. “I gotta get going. Excuse me, Cas.”

Cas didn’t budge from where he’d trapped Sam in the booth. Instead he frowned at Sam. “We deserve an explanation.”

“Look, I just needed a change of scenery, okay? Stretch my legs. Have some sky. Some dogs.”

“Those aren’t dogs,” Dean said in a low voice tinged with anger.

A thread of power twisted its way around Sam’s head, pulling itself tighter and tighter. “Cas, let me out,” Sam half-pleaded. “Please.”

Cas shifted out of the booth, giving Sam the space he needed to slide out.

“Thank you.” Sam got out of the booth and started walking towards the door.

Dean suddenly yanked his hand from behind and spun Sam around. Fury fought with concern on Dean’s features, the shades had come off. “If you step out of here, don’t you come to save my ass again. Don’t you dare-”

The words were bitingly familiar. Sam squared his shoulders, reaching out to the pain in his head to stop the thread of power from spilling over as he spat out, “I got it _first time_ , Dean.” Sam yanked his hand out of Dean’s and dashed out of the diner.

He ignored his SUV in the lot by the diner and started storming off down the main street of Cody. Sam wasn’t really aware of where his feet were taking him and he started to pick up speed as he fled the diner and his family.

Sam finally stopped in a playground and sank down onto the grass near a merry-go-round. The thread inside Sam snapped as he rocked himself on the grass and the roundabout beside him started to spin of its own accord, as if powered by a strong wind.

Distantly, Sam was aware of footsteps approaching him, but he was falling to pieces too much to care.

“Sam?” called Dean, his voice near.

Forcing himself to look up, Sam stared into Dean’s worried face as the merry-go-round continued to spin, faster and faster. Clods of earth floated around Sam like miniature asteroids. His hair was floating as if it were underwater.

Tears flowed down Sam’s cheeks as another familiar voice called, “I don’t know who you are, but you can get away from Sam!”

Brandy, from his yoga class, walked into Sam’s field of vision. “Can’t you see you’re just making him hurt?”

Dean looked startled, unsure what to make of what was going on as Cas and Jack came to his side, while a half dozen townsfolk gathered around.

“Sam, darling, are you okay?” asked the soothing voice of Audrey Collins. The post master knelt down beside him and rubbed soothing circles into his back.

Feeling stupid, Sam tried to get his emotions under control as an honor guard of folk drew closer. This wasn’t the first time he’d lost it in the middle of Cody, but those who lived in and around Cody were usually very understanding. They all had their off days every now and then.

Times when the moon became too much to ignore. Days when a spell went awry. Moments when they couldn’t help diving into people’s futures like they’re a novel they couldn’t put down. Occasions when they needed a blood bag before they murdered everyone in the cue at the grocery store. Months when all they wanted to do was be someone else every single day.

“You should leave now,” came the imposing voice of Sheriff Mathers, who’d joined the crowd protecting Sam. “Head on back to your motel.”

Dean looked stunned, but some instinct seemed to tell him to get going as Sam tried uselessly to wipe away the tears that wouldn’t stop. Jack looked sad, and Cas looked thoughtful as he steered Dean and Jack away, and back to where the Impala was parked near the diner.

Somehow Sam ended up back in his bed in his cabin later that afternoon, with a tuna casserole in the refrigerator waiting to be reheated, and Brandy reading on his couch. The fluffy trio had piled onto the bed with him.

Sam didn’t know if Dean, Cas and Jack had left town. Part of him hoped they hadn’t, now that everything was out in the open. Not that Sam knew what Dean would do the next time he saw him, or if he wanted to see him.

But it was to Cas that Sam offered a silent apology in a prayer.


	6. Around and around we go, where we’ll stop, nobody knows

“I just want to speak with him.”

“And maybe he doesn’t want to speak with you. Thought of that?”

“Please, I need to see Sam.”

Sam blinked his eyes open at the sound of raised voices coming from the front of the cabin. One was Castiel’s voice and the other was Brandy, who seemed determined not to let Castiel in. For a moment Sam had to bring himself to recall what had led to Brandy being at his cabin and then the previous day flooded back to him. Shame curled in his stomach, but he got out of bed anyway, still dressed in the same jeans and shirt he’d worn the day before. Bare feet slapping against the floorboards, he made his way out of his bedroom and waved at the dogs who were curled up by the couch.

“Sam!” Castiel called from the front door and Brandy seemed to lose the battle then, standing back to admit Cas in. The psychic and the angel couldn’t look any more different, what with Brandy’s haphazard auburn bun, usual yoga pants and colorfully layered tops, versus Castiel’s short dark hair, trench coat and suit.

Nervously pushing a hand through his shaggy hair, Sam tried to seem as relaxed as possible as Castiel walked right into his space, eyes scrutinizing every inch of Sam. “You’re okay?” Cas asked in an earnest voice.

Sam’s throat was dry, his face still hurt, and he didn’t want to nod a yes. He was done with lying, but he wasn’t necessarily ready to talk about it all. Instead he shrugged and stepped away from Cas so he could get himself a bottle of water from the refrigerator.

Sam ignored Cas and Brandy dancing around each other behind his back as he took a long draw of the chilled liquid.

Finally he turned around to witness Brandy and Cas glaring at each other, arms crossed in front of them. Whatever silent battle was raging there, Sam wasn’t sure if he had the mental energy left to break it up. He finished the bottle of water and put it beside the sink so it could be washed and reused.

“I need to take a shower,” Sam announced and left without further ado. He strolled the short distance to his bathroom and locked the door. Voices started to come from the living room and Sam started the shower, drowning out Brandy and Cas. Sam stripped quickly and got into the water just as it was on the verge of being icy cold to a sudden searing heat.

Both temperatures were good, shocking Sam’s system and forcing him to get a handle on his thoughts and that ebb of power within him. Coming back to his usual self a bit more, he worried about what Dean might make of Cody’s residents—other than sticking up for Sam, none had shown, as far as he could recall, a hint of what they were to Dean.

Sam could imagine it quite clearly. The added betrayal Dean would feel at not only being the last to know about Sam’s telekinesis, but an entire town of non-humans, witches and other psychics also knowing before he did. Heck, how would Dean react if he knew that those same people had the ability to get past Sam’s wards in a way that he had yet to be allowed? _In fact, how’s he gonna take my hex bag and spell business?_ Sam pondered as he tried not to give in to the worry that was circling inside of him.

He didn’t need a vision to know that Dean was gonna be pissed, but Sam couldn’t decide if that was better than Dean being completely done with him. The words he’d said to Sam came back and the shower spray started to drift up towards the cabin ceiling. Sam glanced up and blinked hard, taking deep calming breaths. The water slowly bent back towards gravity and Sam sighed.

A wet ceiling was still a better outcome than what he knew he was capable of, but Dean and Cas didn’t know that. After all that had happened since Cas had turned up at the cabin the first time, maybe it really was time to talk openly and honestly with Dean and Cas, and allow them to understand that Sam couldn’t come back to the Bunker. He hoped he could also keep Jack out of any mess, though he’d had some idea of the why when Sam had left.

Seeing Dean getting along with Jack was enough for Sam to know that he didn’t want to ruin that. He could still remember what things had been like when they’d first started getting to know each other. The things Dean had said to Jack. Had said about Jack.

Trying again to put his worries aside, Sam washed every inch of himself, nearly scrubbing himself raw as the water continued to heat up. It was as if Sam felt that if he cleaned himself enough that maybe he could wash away some of the guilt that stuck to him like an oozing wound, putrid and rank.

Eventually the water started to turn cold again and Sam turned off the shower. His mind spun with thoughts of how he might be able to explain and deescalate the situation.

“I need to invite them all here,” Sam muttered to himself. “Show some trust.” But it made him feel nervous, the idea of letting Dean into this sanctuary. Letting Dean into those few sanctuaries he’d built for himself over the years had led to heartache—Sam would never forget Amelia. And he still worried about what Dean might do if he knew the truth about the town, because Sam couldn’t forget Amy. And while Dean might leave the psychics alone, everyone else would probably be fair game.

_Even if they are good people._

Towel wrapped around his waist, Sam flitted between the bathroom and his bedroom, closing the door to his room before questions could start again, or before Castiel’s penetrating gaze could linger too long. Sam dried and dressed himself, toweling his hair, and concentrated on the idea that letting Dean (and Jack) into his home would help diffuse things.

“Brandy?” Sam said, stepping into the living area.

“Yeah, Sam?” his student, his friend, asked, looking away from Cas who’d she ended up sitting opposite to at the kitchen table.

“Thanks for everything. I really appreciate your help.” Sam tucked a stray strand of hair behind his right ear.

“It’s nothing.” Brandy got up from where she was sat and went over to Sam. “You need anything else?”

“A cup of coffee, but I’ve got it from here.”

Brandy gave a worried smile and nodded. “Okay, well you know where to find me if you need me. Take care, Sam.” She knew more than she was saying, but Sam didn’t mind.

Once Brandy was gone, Sam started the coffee maker and turned to Cas. “So, which motel you guys staying in?”

***

“I don’t get why you couldn’t just tell me the address,” Dean grumbled as he got out of the Impala. He squinted as he looked towards the spot of land where Sam's cabin was nestled, but Sam knew that Dean couldn’t see his cabin.

Walking over to Dean, Sam waved behind him at Jack, who was equally squinting.

“There’s something there,” Jack pronounced, eyes almost slits.

Dean gave Jack a confused look, but Castiel, who had been the one to drive the Impala to the cabin, got out of the car and walked past Sam and-

“What the hell?!” Dean yelped as Sam imagined he saw Castiel disappearing into nothingness.

“You really couldn’t have driven here. Cas could hardly fly here the first time.” Sam gave Dean a grim smile. “Uh, and you’ll probably not like this next part much.”

“What, you gonna have me drink pulverized chicken liver sprinkled with crushed beetle shells?” Dean joked, but there was no hiding the nervousness behind it.

“Not quite.” Sam pulled a small hunting knife from a sheath on his belt and held it up. “Uhh, you need some of my blood.”

Dean’s eyes went wide. “Cas! Hey!”

Castiel stepped over the threshold to Sam’s property, coming back into view. “It really is the only way.”

Without waiting for Dean, Jack stepped forward. “I’m cool with it.” He gave Sam a big smile.

“Okay then...” Sam held out his left hand, which was only just recovered from the last time he cut it, and made a small cut down the flesh of his palm. He beckoned Jack over and smeared a small amount of blood across his forehead.

“I still don’t- Oh!” Jack exclaimed. “It’s so nice, Sam.” Jack started walking forward and Castiel joined him as the two of them headed towards the cabin.

Dean gave Sam and his palm a doubtful look. “Fine, let’s get it over with.” He stepped a little closer and Sam smeared some blood over Dean’s forehead. Practically anointing Dean.

Again, there was a brief moment where Dean didn’t think anything had happened and then- “Son of a bitch!”

“What do you think?” Sam asked when he knew Dean could see the cabin proper.

Standing still, jaw a little slack, Dean didn’t say anything for a good long while. And then excited barking broke out from inside the cabin and the fluffy trio burst out, chasing each other in some excited game. The dogs sprinted towards Dean and Sam, tongues lolling out and Sam could see Dean tense. But his brother didn’t yell or scream as the dogs peeled off and headed around towards the back of the property.

Not wanting the situation to get any worse, Sam patted Dean on the shoulder with his right hand and motioned him towards the cabin. “Coffee?” Sam offered.

Dean numbly nodded and followed Sam inside the cabin. Cas had already gotten the coffee maker going, which Sam was grateful for. He knew Dean would probably prefer something harder for the conversation they were about to have, but Sam wanted Dean to have a clear head. Before Sam could go any further, Cas stepped to Sam and took Sam’s bleeding left hand between his own and healed it. Grace washed through Sam, like ice water running under his skin, but Castiel’s touch felt like the sun of a warm day. It eased his body and stole his breath.

All this was a few seconds and then Cas let go to continue making the coffee. Sam took a deep breath and headed for the table. He pulled out a chair for Dean, one for Cas and one for himself. Jack seemed happy on the nearby leather couch, already engrossed in a copy of _The Count of Monte Cristo_ that Sam had had on his to read pile. A small feeling of warmth flared inside of Sam, to discover that Jack enjoyed reading, but then this turned to guilt, because he hadn’t been there to watch Jack’s interest in books unfold.

Coming back to himself, Dean looked over at the couch and spotted the throw that Sam had crafted himself. “ _You_ make that?” Dean asked, pointing at the blanket.

“Uh, yeah I did.” Sam smiled and said thank you as Cas handed out mugs of hot coffee to all, including Jack.

Castiel sat down at the middle of the table, again a buffer between Dean and Sam. He pulled his hands around the mug of coffee in front of him, as if he needed the warmth.

“So what, you run away to Wyoming to become Martha Stewart or somethin’?” Dean huffed and crossed his arms over his chest, getting back more to his usual no bullshit self with every passing second.

Sam sighed and shook his head, not wanting to take the bait. “No.”

“So it was because of what we saw in town yesterday, huh? What the hell was that?” Dean pressed.

Cas stayed silent, but gave Dean an unimpressed glare to which Dean shrugged, arms still crossed over his chest.

Sam pushed a hand through his hair, trying to gather his thoughts together while also keeping the thread of power within him level and calm. “I uh… my powers came back.”

Dean’s left eyebrow twitched. He unfolded his arms and casually picked up his hot mug of coffee. “You drinking again?”

Taking in a deep breath, Sam tried hard not to focus on how Dean had gone straight to assuming that Sam was debasing himself with drinking demon blood. Of course the only way that Sam could possibly have any powers again was if he was polluting himself again. “No demon blood.”

That was greeted with a skeptical look from Dean. “You got visions?”

“No… just uh… what you saw.” Sam sniffed. “Telekinesis only, pretty much.”

“When’d it start?”

Sam couldn’t help glancing at the back of Jack’s head, before looking at Dean again. “Uhhh, around the time I started trying to help Jack with his powers.”

Castiel gave a sage nod, but remained silent. Obviously the seraph had already drawn some conclusions for himself.

“So what about all that mojo it must have taken to hide this place, huh?” Dean put the mug down, having not taken a sip, and crossed his arms again. “What’s with that?”

Sam shifted awkwardly in his seat. “Magic, you know that.”

“Where’d you get that kind of power?”

And of course for Dean, Sam couldn’t just have anything like that naturally. Even though Ruby had been quite clear all those years ago in that church. _Nothing can be just me, can it?_ Sam thought bitterly. But he knew it was all him. Max and Alicia Banes had commented all the way back at Asa Fox’s funeral that he had that natural witch aura about him, and he’d certainly never had much trouble with spellwork.

“It’s just me, Dean. Just me.” Sam sighed again.

Dean frowned and pursed his lips. “Sammy...” he started in a voice that was both paternal and patronizing at the same time. “It doesn’t make any sense. Something must have messed with you.”

“Why?” Sam asked incredulously.

“Because-”

“Dean! For the love of… Look, I… you know back when Lucifer rose? In that church? Well, before you came in like a knight in shining armor that was twenty minutes too late to the party, Ruby told me something.”

“You can’t trust anything that bitch said to you.”

“No, I can trust this, Dean. I really can. She told me that I’d never needed ‘the feather to fly’. I didn’t need the demon blood, Dean. All my… look, I’m naturally this. Okay? No demon blood—this is me.”

“But why’d you run?!” Dean shouted.

And for a split second Sam lost his hold on the thread. The floors and walls of the cabin creaked loudly and unnaturally. Sam screwed his eyes shut tight, breathing first through his nose and then exhaling out through his mouth. _Just breathe_ , he told himself over and over.

“Dean, please,” Cas begged, but for what, Sam couldn’t tell as he focused on calming down. “Can’t you see? Sam left so that he didn’t hurt us.”

“Ha!” Dean pushed up and away from the table. “We would have helped him.”

“Until a minute ago, you believed your brother had returned to drinking demon blood.” Cas shook his head and let the unsaid accusation hang there. That Dean wouldn’t have helped Sam if he’d said anything two years ago, because he would have been too busy accusing him.

Silence settled across the cabin for all of a minute. And then Dean stood up from his chair and walked away from the table, putting distance between himself and Sam. “How was Cas able to track you down when I hadn’t been able to for two years?” Dean asked accusingly.

Before either Sam or Cas could trot out some kind of explanation, Jack got up from the couch and turned to Dean. “Because I told Cas where he should be able to find Sam.”

Dean gritted his jaw and Sam could see some of that old hate rise up inside of Dean, bubbling up mean and nasty. “You knew.”

Jack didn’t deny it, he just nodded and fold his arms in front of him. “I didn’t understand why Sam didn’t want me to know what was going on all that time ago, but I knew I could help him. So I was the keeper of this secret. And I sent Cerberus to keep him company and safe.”

As if on queue, Hamil, Wade and Lexi bounded into the cabin, making Dean press up against the kitchen counter behind him. Betrayal was etched into Dean’s features, hard and unforgiving.

“So wunderkid knew, but not me. Wow, Sam, just wow.” Dean shook his head.

The dogs walked over to Sam and put their heads on his lap or in the case of Lexi, jumped up on it. Sam looked over towards Dean, unsure what to say. Saying sorry didn’t seem appropriate or that it would be enough. He was unsure if the bridge between them could be mended this time.

“And the townspeople of Cody seem really okay with their resident freak freaking out in the middle of town,” Dean spat out. Sam had wondered when he might bring that up.

But he needed to try and explain. He’d gotten this far and he was tired of the lies, but he’d needed to be careful. “I only did it to protect you, Dean. Please understand.”

“Sam-”

“No, listen. There was and still is a real risk that I could bring the Bunker down on top of you if I went back. Understand… I don’t have any real control over this.” Sam waved a hand over himself. “The control I do have is so small and taken me so long to gain, I don’t want to risk losing it.”

“But the people of Cody are fine?” Dean asked incredulously.

“It’s different, Dean.”

“Different how?!” Dean threw his hands up and then pointed at Sam. “How the hell is it different.”

The town’s secrets weren’t for Sam to tell and yet he needed to give Dean something. “They’re not family. They… get how it is.”

“How could they possibly ‘get how it is’?” Dean’s nostrils were flared now, anger tensing his body and making him look ready to fight any second.

“Because they just do. And… no offense, but they don’t stress me out like you do.”

Within the blink of an eye, Dean’s anger was gone. Sadness crept into his eyes and made his shoulders slump. The thread struggled inside of Sam and the cabin creaked ominously again.

“I’m sorry, Dean… but it’s for your good and mine.” Sam tried to control his breathing, but his heart was speeding up, fight or flight filling his veins with adrenaline and destabilizing Sam’s control of his power.

The four of them remained quiet as the creaking finally stopped and Sam continued to breathe with purpose. Calming down, Sam gave Dean a pleading look, begging him to understand.

Emotions passed over Dean’s face, and Sam couldn’t read them. A few minutes later, Dean finally said, “Look… I don’t want to lose you again, Sam. You’re my brother.”

Sam tried not to think of those parting words Dean had said back in the diner only the previous day.

“Please… let us help you. Help you get a better grip on whatever this is.”

And the idea that Dean might be able to help was a tempting one—having his family around him again and there to talk with, share with… it made Sam’s heart ache from the loneliness he’d faced for so long.

“Sam?” Cas prompted.

Letting out a shaky breath, Sam nodded. “Okay… but I can’t go back to the Bunker. It’s too dangerous.”

Dean nodded. “We’ll figure something out.”

“Woop!” Jack cheered, stamping his feet and waving his arms up in the air. “Sleepover time!” Hamil, Wade and Lexi dashed away from Sam and crowded around Jack, barking happily with him, jumping up.

“Hang on, wait a minute-” Sam and Dean said at the same time. Castiel shook his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I am hopefully going to be able to keep up with writing this fic, I have two chapters banked and I know what I'm doing for chapter 9, but be warned... I'm writing my Team Free Will Big Bang as well at the moment, 80% drafts are due end of May, AND I signed up for the DeanCas Big Bang - which will be my third year trying to attempt that (I have yet to complete a fic for it, but I'm feeling like maybe this year is the year).
> 
> Anyway, I'm writing a lot of of things, and while I do have one other WIP kicking about, Out of the Black is my main WIP at the moment. And in order to help with all of this writing, I have signed up to Camp NaNoWriMo for my TFWBB, and I have a spreadsheet going to help me keep on track of my daily word count for all of my main fics.
> 
> So, daily word goals and Threshie permitting - we'll be on track to continue a chapter a week until the story is told. Speaking of Threshie, this is a reminder to you all that my beta is awesome and that I am grateful for the help.
> 
> See you in the comments!


	7. Far from any road

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's a bit late, Threshie had to battle internet gods that were holding back the beta process. As you can see, Threshie came out on top.
> 
> Conversations are had in this chapter... or at least one very important one.
> 
> And then talking is put on the back burner, because Cas and Sam finally share their feelings... and bodily fluids!

A sleepover supplies run with a three year old nephilim who had a habit of acting like a mix between a young twenty-something and an over-eager puppy, went a little something like this…

Cas steered the four of them out of the cabin and for a brief second it looked like they were all going to go in the Impala, but then the dogs came barking after them. So it was Sam and Cas with Hamil, Wade and Lexi in the Subaru, and Dean with Jack in the Impala.

Sam led the way to the nearest store that would be selling snacks and supplies that suited their needs. Rather than going in with them, Sam waited out in the lot with the dogs and Cas, while Dean was dragged into the store by Jack with demands for Lucky Charms, vanilla ice cream and chocolate milk.

“Do I even want to know how he’s going to eat all of that?” Sam asked Cas.

Cas shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Jack likes to separate out the charms into different bowls, a bowl for each type. He then layers the charms between layers of ice cream, and so on, until the bowl is almost full.”

“And the chocolate milk?” Sam was feeling a little queasy at imaging the combination as it was.

“He pours that over the concoction, until there are several millimeters of chocolate milk on top. And then he picks up his spoon and begins to devour the whole thing.” Cas gave Sam a small queasy look.

“Sounds healthy.”

Cas cleared his throat and asked, “Sam, are you sure there isn’t anything you wish to get for the ‘sleepover’?” He made air quotes at “sleepover”.

Sam chuckled. He’d never had a sleepover growing up. The closest he’d ever gotten was back in college, having a few nights where some of his friends had crashed over while they played Xbox until it was dawn. Fridays only, of course.

“I’ve actually got plenty of my own snacks back at the cabin.”

Castiel landed his hand on Sam’s shoulder, making Sam look at him. “Dean will undoubtedly be getting himself some kind of treat. Likely jerky, beer, pie and something stronger. You should get yourself a treat too.”

Sam swallowed hard, the pressure of Castiel’s hand on his shoulder making his heart rate speed up and his mouth so very dry. He looked into Castiel’s blue eyes and had a fleeting thought of just leaning forward and pressing their mouths together. Finally.

“Sam, are you okay?” Cas asked in a concerned voice, cutting through Sam’s fantasy.

Coming back to himself, Sam nodded. “Yeah, you’re right. I should get something.” Sam looked over his shoulder at the fluffy trio. All three dogs were looking at him with their heads tilted to the right. _Oh gawd… am I that obvious?_ Though Sam had to remind himself that Cerberus was probably smarter than the average dog. “Uhhh, I’ll be back in a few,” he said lamely and then quickly exited the SUV.

Hurrying across the lot, Sam tried to get his breathing and heart back under control, fully aware that the control on his power was slipping a little as a few leaves floated around him without any breeze. Logically he knew that it would be best to just ask Cas outright if maybe, possibly, there was something between them, that he wasn’t imagining it. The whole idea of asking Cas right now, with Dean and Jack around, made Sam feel a weird mix of guilty and excited though.

 _Maybe, I could… when things have simmered down or whatever…_ The leaves settled on the asphalt and Sam went on into the store. He didn’t bother hunting down Dean or Jack. Instead he picked up a basket and started looking for a few of his go-to comfort foods. First he found a tub of pre-made, low fat caesar salad, and then he hunted down for this real nice tomato and basil pasta salad he knew this store always sold. Finding the pasta, he headed for the cooler that had beer, keen to get in some bottles of some European stuff he’d grown fond of.

Rounding on where he recalled the beer to be, Sam found Dean, also looking at the bottles of beer. Even though there was plenty of Sol in the cooler, Dean was looking at the exact same European beers that Sam had been keen to pick up.

Dean looked over at Sam. “Hey… actually, do you know if this Brewdog stuff is any good?”

“Was gonna get some myself,” Sam admitted, stepping beside Dean.

“Then it’s settled.” Dean opened the cooler door and grabbed a case of the beer, putting it in a cart that was already stocked with chips, jerky, instant mac and cheese, and a big apple pie.

“Got plenty?” Sam teased.

Dean rolled his eyes and closed the ccooler. “I’ll have you know, I’m a growing lad, Sammy. Need my five food groups.” He grinned at Sam, and Sam couldn’t help returning it.

“You know… it’s kinda like old times,” Sam found himself saying as the two of them looked for Jack.

“Ye-ah,” Dean replied, voice breaking a little.

Sam pretended he didn’t notice though his own eyes were a little wet. The two of them went off in search of Jack who was already waiting for them near the cash registers.

“Come on,” Jack whined, “the ice cream may melt before we get back to Sam’s!” His eyes kept flicking to the cashier who was manning the only open register. Sam wondered what Jack saw, hoping that the nephilim wouldn’t blurt out that their cashier was a werewolf. Kenneth was a nice guy and Sam really didn’t want Dean to come back to wondering why the whole town seemed to be cool with Sam and then coming to the realization that they were almost all freaks living in the same community.

“Oh and that would be terrible, wouldn’t it?” Dean deadpanned, shaking his head as he took a peek in the basket that Jack had filled.

Sam insisted on paying for everything, not wanting dodgy credit cards to ruin Dean’s reputation in Cody, and then hustled them all back out into the lot. Loading their goodies into their cars, Sam gave Cas a grateful smile when he got back into the SUV. He let Hamil, Wade and Lexi out for a few moments, but they didn’t have much business to attend to and then they were all soon back off to the cabin.

***

“Dude, you don’t have a TV!” Dean griped as he stirred his mac and cheese on the stove.

Sam shrugged as he piled pasta and chicken caesar onto a plate for himself. The microwave pinged, signaling that Jack’s burrito was ready. Sam was so glad he wasn’t going to be sleeping in the same room where Jack would be awake later that night. Dean had agreed to take the couch, and Cas and Jack had promised to keep the noise down while not sleeping. Hamil, Wade and Lexi had been made, by Dean, to give paw shakes to promise they wouldn’t come for him during the night. Sam had said they’d sleep in his room.

“I know,” Sam replied, satisfied with the food he’d laid out on his plate. He took it to the table and spotted Cas crouched beside the sideboard, the doors opened as he looked at the boardgames that Sam stored in there.

“Look,” Cas said, standing up with a game, “Perhaps we could play this ‘Catan’ once you are done with your meals?” And Sam thought it was adorable the way that Cas squinted at the back of the box as he looked over the game’s blurb. “You have to obtain and trade natural resources as you race to be the most developed peoples on an isolated archipelago.”

“Seriously?” Dean whined, just as Jack walked by the stove with his now plated burrito. Sam didn’t miss the way that Jack almost subtly elbowed Dean in his side, making Dean wince and glare at Jack.

“Sounds like fun,” Jack announced, taking a seat at the kitchen table. “We should definitely play after dinner.”

“Like you said, I don’t have a TV.” Sam took his plate to the table. “It’ll be good.”

Cas smiled and sat down on the couch with the box, opening the game up and pulling out the instructions so he could begin to study them. He looked really pleased with himself.

Dean muttered something under his breath and Sam wondered if Jack and Dean had had some kind of discussion on the way back to the cabin. He couldn’t imagine what about exactly, but as Dean joined him and Jack at the table, Sam wondered if it had been about him and Cas. _Is it… are we… is it obvious?_ Sam pondered, taking a bite of the caesar salad.

Dinner passed with general discussion about hunts and Sam’s cabin. Dean wanted to check over the cabin the following day, make sure it was winter ready, even though Sam assured him it was, while Cas and Jack worked on helping Sam. Though Sam couldn’t see them accomplishing much in a single day, he was willing to give it a go.

Once the dinner things were cleared away, Cas set up the Catan board on the kitchen table, dragging over a spare chair that usually lived against a wall. Jack brought out his sugar death trap, Dean grabbed the beers and some jerky, and the four of them picked which color set they wanted. Dean was orange, taking his bag of settlements, cities and roads first. Then it was Cas, picking the blue pieces, Jack the white and then Sam took the remaining red pieces.

“So, the rule book suggests we roll the two dice and whoever gets the highest number puts their settlement and road down first,” Cas explained, shaking a pair of dice in his right hand. “Your road needs to go beside your settlement. And then we go in descending order around the table, until everyone has laid out their first pieces. But keep in mind, that the person with the lowest roll then puts a second settlement and road down, and they get a resource from each tile next to that settlement...”

Cas explained a few more nuances that played out the start of the game and then they rolled. Sam ended up with the lowest roll, which meant he was last to put out his first settlement, but he was first to put out his second. He’d played Catan a few times when he’d been having good weeks. Brandy, Florence and Audrey would come round and they’d play a game or two.

Once everyone had their starting resources (Sam started with some ore, corn and sheep), Sam realized that Castiel could be absolutely ruthless when he understood the rules of a board game. Maybe he should have reread the rules before they played, but as Sam and Cas both schooled Dean and Jack on how to play the game as they played, Cas outstripped them all in terms of building all over the island, and quickly increasing his overall points. Each settlement and city was worth points. And once Cas had the longest road on the island—that was all she wrote.

“How?!” Dean cried. “You haven’t even played this before!”

Cas shrugged. “I’m good at picking up game rules.”

“Okay. Well I get to pick the next game,” Dean declared, heading over to the sideboard, beer in hand.

The four of them played Clue next and Dean managed to win, with Colonel Mustard in the conservatory with poison. Though Cas accused Dean of checking the answer while no one else was looking. Dean vehemently denied this and so the rest of the evening became snacks and a competition between Dean and Cas, seeing who could win the most games.

Sam struggled to keep up, but when they played Scrabble it was Jack who came up on top. Dean and Cas seemed to simmer down a little after that, but even as they played Sorry, Sam caught Cas and Dean throwing each other squinty eyed glares. Dean had been drinking of course, but Sam had no idea what Castiel’s excuse was for acting hyper competitive. For a moment, Sam considered that a board games related incident may have happened during his two year absence. He decided to ask Jack when they got a moment without the other two.

Once the four of them had battled their way through a second play of Clue, Sam decided it was time to call it bedtime. He could feel it was late without even looking at a watch. And sleepover or not, he needed to be rested enough to be able to get through what Cas and Jack had planned for the following day.

“I’ll go find some sheets,” Sam said as they packed up. He went through his cupboards and found fresh bedding for Dean, which Dean was happy to set up himself.

All too soon, the four of them were saying goodnight, the dogs having taken a trip outside, and Sam was heading to his room with the dogs in tow.

“Night!” Jack called.

“G’night,” Sam answered back and went to bed. Getting under the covers, the fluffy trio on the floor, Sam recalled Castiel’s hand on his shoulder earlier and started wondering what it would be like to have Cas in bed with him.

***

“That couch ain’t half-bad,” Dean greeted as he stretched and yawned.

Cas already had the coffee pot on, which was good, because as Sam let the dogs out to do their business, he felt like he was walking with cotton wool stuffed in his head.

“Kinda one of the reasons why I picked it up.”

There was a blur as Jack jogged past, going for the bathroom. Sam made his way over to the coffee maker and Cas. The seraph had made a point of not wearing his trenchcoat in the cabin, and it was nice how at home he looked in his dress shirt, tie and slacks, sleeves rolled up. As Sam got closer, Castiel’s penetrating gaze swept over him, seeming to see past his old t-shirt and sweats, making him feel suddenly naked. Breathing became difficult for a moment and Sam had to turn away as a blush rose up to his cheeks.

He caught Dean’s eyes, as his brother looked over the back of the couch at Cas and Sam, and Sam’s blush only got redder as Dean’s eyes flicked from Cas to Sam and back. Dean’s eyes grew wide and he started to open his mouth, but then stopped and seemed to think better of it.

“Hey, Sam can you help me get something from the Impala a second?”

Sam huffed out a breath and tried to meet Dean’s eyes. “Uh, sure.”

Without giving Cas a chance to say anything, Sam stuffed his feet in some tennis shoes and headed outside with Dean. It was cold, but the Impala wasn’t that far from the cabin. They walked in silence, though the dogs were nearby, barking and tussling.

Reaching the Impala, Dean opened up the trunk and made a point of pulling out a duffel he hadn’t brought in. “How long?”

Sam tried to play dumb. “How long what?”

“How long you been going all gooey around Cas, dumbass?” Dean fiddled with something else in the trunk, trying to draw out their pretense for being there in the chill morning air.

 _Oh fine…_ “Awhile,” Sam replied slowly.

Dean snorted and closed the trunk. He picked up the duffel and slung it over his shoulder. He turned to Sam, lips set in a firm line. “I’m sure Cas hasn’t told you, but when you left… he blamed himself. I couldn’t figure out for the life of me why. And he wouldn’t tell me, until one night he’d drunk about 14 bottles of Jack all to himself.”

Guilt crept up Sam’s spine, chilling him more than the morning air. “What’d he say?”

“Said he’d driven you away. That he’d pushed you too far. And that’s why you’d left.” Dean sighed. “If… if there’s something there, between the two of you—I don’t mind. But dammit man, you gotta do something. You can’t just… leave Cas hanging. Doesn’t matter that he’s some celestial being who likes bees waaaaaaaay too much, because that nerdy angel of ours? He’s got a heart that can break too.”

Not waiting for Sam to say anything, Dean headed back into the cabin with his duffel, leaving Sam where he stood. Hamil found him and whined, licking Sam’s hand for goodness knew how long until Sam seem to come to himself. Thoughts stuffed deep under cotton wool, Sam walked back to the cabin, the dogs now all in tow.

“Sam, you shouldn’t be outside so long without a jacket or a sweater,” Cas chided as Sam came back in. The fluffy trio went straight for the kibble filled bowls.

“Right, right,” Sam agreed as Cas came up to him, hands already on Sam’s arms. Without asking, Cas rubbed Sam’s arms, bringing heat back to the chilled flesh.

There was movement behind Sam, nearer the couch, but he wasn’t really taking it in as guilt and low key arousal were simmering inside of him.

“Jack, the dogs and I are gonna head into Cody and see if we can’t find a few pieces to fix up the cabin... Be back in three hours,” Dean called from what seemed like a million miles away. The cabin door opened and closed again, the Impala rumbled into life—Dean and Jack were gone, fluffy trio in tow.

Castiel’s hands gently slowed and he looked into Sam’s eyes. “You really should get into something warmer,” Cas pointed out. There was an uncertainty in the seraph’s eyes, like he wasn’t sure if he should have done what he had.

Sam was feeling warmer and he knew the blush was back on his cheeks. “I should,” Sam said in a low husky voice. “But… I mean… maybe...” he swallowed. “Maybe you… maybe we could… uh...” words failing, Sam’s lips stilled. His breathing was ragged and he had no idea of where to go from here.

“Maybe...” Cas copied and then he leaned in and pressed his lips to Sam’s. Eyes closing, sparks shimmied up and down Sam’s spine, warmth filling him from top to bottom. The kiss started gentle at first, their lips soft and pliant, but then two years of waiting crashed into them.

Hands desperately reaching out for Cas, Sam pulled the angel close, letting Cas push him up against the counter. Mouth hot and wanting, Cas wasn’t nervous as he licked his way into Sam’s mouth, tongue greedy and demanding. A moan rumbled deep in Sam’s throat as he let Cas set the pace. Cas grabbed Sam by the waist and lifted him up onto the counter, pushing himself between Sam’s legs as he leaned up and continued to kiss him.

Coffee and musk filled the air, Castiel’s hands deftly stripping Sam of what little clothing he had on. Sam's fingers eagerly worked at the buttons on Castiel's shirt. Getting frustrated, he pulled the shirt open, popping buttons, sending them pinging off the counter, floor and walls. Cas didn’t seem to care as he grabbed Sam by his hips and wrapped the larger man around him.

Of course Sam had never been handled so in this kind of context, but he loved the strength Cas showed as he carried Sam through the cabin, lips still on him, until he threw him onto his bed. Naked and burning, Sam watched as Cas stripped off the rest of his clothes and then the seraph was climbing into bed with him. Rippling lean muscle joined Sam’s as scruff scratched at his throat and chest, Cas kissing and sucking as he went.

Working his way back up, Cas reached Sam’s lips again, crushing their mouths together. Sam’s heart hammered in his chest as their tongues danced, bodies pressed so tightly that their hard lengths rocked against each other. Sam was getting lightheaded from all the kissing, but he didn’t quite realize what was happening as they devoured each other, driving away the world around them, until the bed suddenly thudded back down onto the floor when Castiel’s mouth moved to Sam’s neck.

“Shit,” Sam swore as Castiel pulled back from the hickey he’d been starting to work onto Sam’s neck.

“Hmmm, perhaps we could tie the bed down?” Cas suggested.

A hysterical giggle worked its way out of Sam and he pulled Cas in close. “Maybe?” Sam kissed the side of Castiel’s jaw, still not quite used to feeling stubble as he did so, but it was a sensation he was willing to become familiar with.

The two of them lazily started to make out again and Sam embraced the warmth that came from Cas. They indulged each other, driving desire and need—Cas was the first person Sam had been with since Piper, which seemed like a million years ago. Every caress that Cas bestowed upon Sam left him quivering, a lover’s touch such an alien thing to him after all these years.

“Sam?” Cas asked hoarsely, “May I… can I… _touch_ you?” Castiel’s right hand skirted down between them, close to their hard lengths.

The suggestive tone made Sam moan low. He nodded. “Please, please, please...” he babbled.

Cas wrapped his hand around both Sam’s length and his own, long deft fingers strongly clenching them together. He gave a few experimental tugs, making them both moan, then pulled back, spat on his hand, and went back at it. Sam hadn’t been under the impression that Cas was completely inexperienced—he had spent millennia watching humanity after all—but he was taken aback at just how well Cas handled them both.

Long pulls of Castiel’s hand gave way to shorter, more frequent ones as pre-come leaked from them both, their breathing ragged and fast. They gasped and cried into each other’s kisses as Cas went faster and faster.

Sam’s orgasm sneaked up on him, making him shout and cry as he shuddered in Castiel’s hold. Cas wasn’t far behind and came hotly between them, his come joining Sam’s. They were a hot panting mess, but Sam didn’t care as he lazily kissed Cas. A flutter of air over them and a sudden warmth gave the impression that Castiel’s wings were wrapped around them.

Conversations would have to happen, but for the briefest moment it was like two years hadn’t passed.


	8. Sinking Down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait. Slowly getting back into the groove of working on this fic again.

At some point, Sam must have drifted off to sleep, because when he woke up, the light in the bedroom has changed, signaling it was later in the day, and he could hear voices coming from the main room in the cabin. Castiel and Dean were talking, but Sam couldn’t quite make out what about. For a brief second, Sam wished Castiel had stayed in bed with him, but he assumed that the seraph had good reason to leave Sam to continue sleeping.

Quickly dressing, Sam pulled on clean underwear, sweats and an old t-shirt. His hair was getting in the way, he tied it back with a hair band and headed out of his room. The chatter died down for a second as Sam used the bathroom, making sure he also didn’t smell like sex incarnate, and he was greeted by waiting looks as he finally appeared in his open plan kitchen and living room.

“Uh, hey?” Sam said a little nervously as he found Dean and Cas sat at his kitchen table.

“There’s fresh coffee,” Castiel announced.

Sam nodded and then his stomach grumbled in protest. _Right, sex before breakfast_. He poured himself some coffee and grabbed a banana from the holder he had on his kitchen counter. Leaning against the counter, Sam ate his banana and waited for the guys to say something. It appeared that Castiel had, thankfully, cleared the kitchen of the debris he and Sam had left behind.

From outside, Sam could hear the dogs running around and generally having fun as they played with Jack. He hoped someone had filled their outside water bowl, in case they got thirsty.

“Ahem, so uh, got some supplies,” Dean started, twisting around in his seat so he could look at Sam as he spoke. “I’ll be able to fix up the cabin over the coming days.”

Sam wasn’t stupid. He could tell that there was something the three of them were avoiding saying to him. Tensing, Sam tried not to panic as he ran through the possibilities in his head. Unless-

“So, Cody’s… nice,” Dean says, voice a little strained. “Some, uh, interesting characters...”

_Oh, he’d figured it out_. Sam finished his banana and put the skin on the counter beside him. What surprised him though was that Dean wasn’t jumping down his throat already. Sam said nothing as Dean watched for his reaction.

Dean looked to Castiel, but Cas said nothing. Sighing, Dean turned again to look at Sam.

“Sam, you’re living in a town filled with monsters,” he pronounced, jaw ticking slightly as he did.

“And?” Sam picked up his mug of coffee, blew on it and took a sip. “Tell me something I don’t already know.”

Dean’s eyes went wide and his mouth hung open. “You knew?”

Castiel put a hand on Dean’s shoulder. “I told you.”

Dean looked to Cas and then back to Sam. “Sammy?” There was a hint of pain in Dean’s voice.

Fear churned the banana in Sam’s stomach. He didn’t want Dean to destroy the people he had come to call friends. “They’re good people, Dean.”

Dean’s jaw tensed. “But-”

“But nothing. They’re like Benny, or Amy,” Dean winced at both names, “Kate… Garth. The Banes twins. Pamela. Missouri! They’re good people, Dean. Nothing more, nothing less. So what if a few of them have fangs or can shift their skin. They’re good.”

Dean looked unconvinced. “Sam-”

“Do you know how many tourists come through here every year to head on into Shoshone? Thousands. And we get the odd missing hiker, but they’re almost always found, and alive. Dead? Never a monster kill. Either other people, misfortune or stupidity,” Sam’s voice rose louder and louder with each point. “So nothing, Dean. This town gets me, and they’ve been keeping me safe.”

Dean winced at that last part and bitterness creeped into his voice as he said, “This whole town knows about you?”

“Why else do you think they weren’t freaking out the other day?” Sam couldn’t help himself when he added, “They were here for me in a way you never could be, Dean.”

There was no hiding the hurt on Dean’s face. Dean huffed out a breath and stood up from his chair. “You didn’t give us the chance to help.”

Sam nodded. “I know, but it’s... Don’t you dare try to hurt the people of this town. They are good, even if I’m not.”

The two brothers stared each other down until Dean slumped back onto his chair. “Fine. But I don’t gotta like it.”

“No you don’t,” Sam agreed. “But maybe someday you will.”

Cas cleared his throat. “Perhaps, Sam, we might go for a walk, so that Dean can start on the cabin?” And okay, maybe the two of them needed some brief time apart. Even if they had already spent two years not talking. Sam nodded. “Just lemme change a sec.” Dean got up from his chair and headed out. Soon Sam could hear the trunk of the Impala opening and Dean muttering from out front.

***

Hamil, Wade and Lexi bounded on ahead, their extending leads giving them distance but stopping them from annoying any of Florence’s herd. Sam had put on jeans instead of sweats, but pulled on a warm, comfy red hoodie—a Stanford one he’d treated himself to after he came to Cody—instead of layering up with plaid. The sun was warm overhead, but not warm enough to completely take the edge off the increasingly chilly air.

“Is Florence...” Cas seemed to struggle with the right word to say and then settled on, “different?”

Sam chuckled. “A bit? She’s really good at dowsing for water. Sometimes she can also find cattle if they’ve become lost. People’s pets. Lost teddy bears. That sorta thing.”

Castiel nodded. “Brandy?”

“Another psychic. She’s good at reading people’s futures. I haven’t let her look at my palms yet… kinda scared to.” Sam sighed out a long breath. “Why?” Cas asked. “I would have thought it would be advantageous to know.”

“Been there, done that. Never really helped.” Sam looked up to find that Hamil and Wade were teasing Lexi with a stick, holding it too high for her to reach. “Hey, play fair!” Sam called to the dogs.

Hamil and Wade looked up, and just as they did Lexi jumped up and grabbed the stick. Sam struggled to hold onto the leads as the three dogs tried to run and fight at the same time. Castiel let out a long high whistle and the three dogs suddenly stopped and Lexi sheepishly put down the stick. The fluffy trio continued to walk, but at a far more tolerable pace.

“Thanks,” Sam said as his arms stopped feeling like they would be ripped off.

“What about the Sheriff?”

“Thomas? He’s a shapeshifter. Won the election fair and square, though. The whole town knew.”

Castiel nodded. “That is good, that everyone’s transparent about these things… how do you keep it hidden from all the tourists?”

Sam laughed. “Same way the whole country doesn’t know that the supernatural lives and kills among them—they ignore what’s right under their nose. Explaining it away.”

“Humans do have a habit of doing that,” Castiel agreed. “So how did they find out about you?”

“I was walking through town. It was just some tree branch falling, but the noise… it sounded like one of the times that Lucifer snapped my spine in two, in hell. And I freaked out...”

Castiel reached out and laid his hand on Sam’s shoulder, squeezing it. “Sam...”

“I think a bit of my psychic stuff is still there, y’know? I felt a real draw to this town. Like I belonged… and it turns out I do. Town full of freaks.” Sam gave a nervous chuckle and stopped walking.

Castiel came up beside Sam and wrapped his arms around him, hugging him close. It was a very human thing to do and Sam suspected Cas had learned to it from watching TV shows, _or, y’know, being around his family_ , Sam thought glumly, but he appreciated the sentiment nonetheless. The hug was grounding and comforting, filling Sam with hope.

“Cas,” Sam whispered, “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?”

“For leaving you… for not telling you.”

“You’re forgiven, Sam. I am glad to be with you now. This is what matters.”

And Sam tried hard to allow himself to feel forgiven, but it would take some time. Castiel’s words certainly did nothing to shift a feeling that suggested Sam should atone for the past two years. For Castiel’s sake, Dean’s and Jack’s.

***

Sam had never considered it possible before, for angry sawing to be a thing, but as he and Cas returned to the cabin with fixings for sandwiches, Sam considered that angry sawing could really be a thing. Before heading off, not long after they’d returned from their walk, Dean had seemed reasonable, amicable even, so Sam had no idea what could have further upset his brother.

Jack intercepted Sam before he could head back out and check on Dean. “I wouldn’t,” he said simply, blocking the door out to the porch.

“Why?” Castiel asked with a rumble to his voice that Sam only ever heard when the seraph was displeased.

Looking over his shoulder, outside, and then back to Cas, Jack said, “Dean, he uh, he found Sam’s ‘wood shed’,” with air quotes.

It took Sam a moment to figure out what Jack meant. His wood for the winter was stored under a lean-to that was attached to the side of the cabin. The only shed on his property was-

“Hell!” Sam swore, palm slapping his face as he did.

“You haven’t… sought power from a demon to do, like magic, have you Sam? It really is just all you, right?” Jack asked, looking very worried as to what the answer may be.

“I sell hex bags and spell ingredients online. It’s how I make some cash, aside from teaching yoga. I’m not some magic flaunting idiot who’s gotten in deep with some demon. I really can work spells without help,” Sam explained, exasperation showing in his voice.

“Dean seems to think you’re doing a whole load of black magic or something,” Jack said.

Sam rolled his eyes. “Sure, there’s a few things in the shed that could be used for black magic, but they can be used for other things too.”

Castiel cleared his throat. “Excuse me, Jack, I need to pass.”

Jack stepped aside for Castiel and the seraph stalked past, heading outside. Sam came to stand beside Jack and the two of them looked out the open cabin door, across the porch and towards where Dean had set up shop.

“Dean,” Cas called.

For a few seconds Dean continued to saw until the hunk of wood he’d been working on split cleanly apart. “Yeah, Cas, what’s up?”

Reaching Dean, Cas stood straight and pointed at him. “You will stop this.”

“What, fixing up the place?” Dean asked coolly.

“No, and you know that.” Castiel crossed his arms across his chest. “You have been treating Sam with nothing but suspicion since we found him.”

Dean squared up to Cas, eyes looking like they could kill. “Just drop it, Cas.”

“Sam doesn’t deserve this, Dean. This second guessing. There’s no blood. No voice whispering in his ear. No demons here, except whatever demon’s controlling your lack of acceptance.”

Sam hoped this wasn’t going to come to blows.

Rolling his eyes, Dean snorted and jabbed a finger towards Cas. “What makes you think everything’s all above board here, huh? Sam’s been living in the damn middle of nowhere for two years. Not a single word. Until now.”

“Because I know.” Cas drew himself up to his full height. It was this point that the fluffy trio came around the side of the cabin, happily barking, only to stop dead in their tracks as they took in Dean and Cas.

“Yeah, well sorry, Cas, but it’s gonna take more than your word for me to just… be cool with this.”

_Oh for_ … Sam pushed past Jack and headed outside. “Seriously, Dean? I went away to stop you from getting hurt! This is… nothing like before.” _All those times before_. The dogs padded over to Sam and crowded around his ankles, whining and giving small barks aimed at Dean.

Dean snorted and turned to face Sam, ignoring the dogs. “What about the wood shed? You got some dark crap in there.”

“And? I’m not working black magic.”

“Why do you have it then?”

Sam huffed out a breath, trying to ignore the twist of power inside him, hoping he could calm things. “Because all of that crap can be used to work good spells too. And you’d know that too if you picked up a spell book now and then when it wasn’t for a case.”

“Christ, Sam. I ain’t gonna read about spells for fun!”

“Then don’t fucking judge what I’m doing, asshole! That’s my way of making a living!”

“Bitch.”

“Jerk.”

The fury written across Dean’s face cracked and he started to laugh, Sam quickly joining him. They doubled over laughing, relief washed over Sam. Hamil jumped up and licked Sam’s face while Wade and Lexi almost tripped over Dean accidentally.

“Why do they do that?” Jack asked, voice hard to hear over the laughter.

“Because that’s what they do,” Cas replied in an exasperated voice.

***

Several rounds of sandwiches heralded an entire afternoon of them all getting stuck in with working on things around the cabin. Sam hadn’t realized quite how much needed to be done, not having Dean’s keen eyes for handiwork and construction. While Sam and Cas assisted Dean, Jack was set to cutting up more firewood for the coming winter, Dean declaring the present amount inadequate.

And while Dean wasn’t saying sorry or groveling (though Sam wouldn’t have said no to a bit of groveling), he was, in his own way, showing some acceptance for the fact that Sam had a life out there on the outskirts of Cody. That he was maybe at least sort of okay with the fact that Sam’s friends and neighbors weren’t all human.

It was a sort of grudging acceptance on Dean’s part and while it wasn’t complete acceptance, Sam would take this, because he could work with this.

Once evening came, the four of them ate chili that Sam cooked. Dean joked that Sam was probably going to poison them all, but after taking a bite he found it was some of the best chili he’d ever eaten. After dinner, they settled down to several rounds of _Clue_ , with Jack winning three out of four, leading Dean to jokingly accuse Jack of cheating, followed by a low powered wrestling match in the middle of the kitchen floor.

Jack won.

But when it came to retiring for the night, Dean and Jack suddenly announced they’d be heading out to a motel they had reservations at.

“But you don’t have to, Dean,” Sam pointed out, feeling a little cross that Dean was going to be driving to the other side of Cody so late. _At least he hasn’t really been drinking tonight_.

“You’re right, I don’t have to. But I am anyway. So’s Jack. We’ll see you later tomorrow morning. In time for breakfast, ‘cause I’m wondering what else you can actually cook now.” Dean gave a smile, a little strained, but still more brotherly than any he’d thrown Sam in a good long while.

Sam nodded. “Okay, whatever.”

“G’night,” Dean called over his shoulder as he headed on out.

“See you in the morning, g’night,” Jack said. He and Dean made a hasty retreat, with Dean not waiting long to drive off into the night.

Alone except for the fluffy trio, who were asleep by the cabin fireplace, enjoying the glow of the dying fire, Sam turned to Castiel. He was about to say something about turning in, but then he caught sight of the hungry look in Castiel’s eyes.

***

“Cas,” Sam whimpered as Castiel’s long fingers worked the button on Sam’s jeans. And okay, they hadn’t had a huge long talk about what the hell this was between the two of them, but Sam didn’t feel like he cared too much as Cas worked quickly to get him naked.

Some talking had happened—it was better than nothing. Letting Cas tumble him onto the bed, Sam let out a whoosh of air, Castiel’s slight roughness really doing more for him than he would have ever admitted to anyone. Sam caught sight of a brown paper bag in the room that hadn’t been there in the morning, and he wondered what it could possibly be, but he had some ideas as Cas reached for it while unbuttoning his own clothes.

Cas had disappeared briefly during their short shopping trip to grab some stuff for lunch. Dress slacks sinfully open as he pulled the contents of the bag out, Cas held up a bottle of lube and it was entirely possible Sam’s heart skipped a beat in that brief moment. Castiel set the bottle down on the bedside table and finished undressing himself.

Under the low light of the bedside lamp, Castiel’s solid, toned body made Sam’s mouth water and his cock harden. He wasn’t sure if they’d go as far as actually having penetrative sex, but lube was still better than spit for jerking each other off.

“Beautiful,” Cas murmured, drinking in Sam’s naked body as he joined him on the bed.

Sam blushed, but eagerly opened his mouth up to Castiel as he started to kiss him. The air in the bedroom gusted a little and Sam imagined that Castiel’s wings were beating a little in whatever dimension they stayed in normally. For a moment, Sam wondered what it would be like to feel Castiel’s feathers on him, and then Cas moved from his mouth to the side of his neck and started to suck and bite.

“Shiiiiiiiiiiit,” Sam swore, hips jerking upwards. The intense flare of pain sent needy tingles along his body, making him seek what friction he could against Castiel.

“Mmmmmm,” Cas hummed as he continued to work on giving Sam some very large hickies.

Hips thrusting upwards, Sam’s cock caught against Castiel’s, and they both moaned appreciatively at the contact. Sam did it again, and then wrapped his legs around Castiel’s hips in a show of suppleness that was only possible due to all his yoga practice, and also wrapped his arms under Castiel’s. Castiel humped Sam, pre-come and sweat slicking the way, but it wasn’t enough.

“Lube, Cas! Use some lube!” Sam gasped.

With a growl, Cas broke away from Sam’s neck and reached for the lube.

“Just a bit,” Sam advised. Cas flipped the lid on the bottle and shifted a little so he could squirt some between their bodies. Sam shivered as he felt the chill of the lube hitting his cock. Putting the bottle back down on the unit, Cas reached between the two of them and spread the slick substance around a little. Pulling his hand back, Cas put his weight on both of his hands again and then switched to the side of Sam’s neck he’d yet to mark up, thrusting his hips against Sam again.

Sam grunted and groaned as he tried to meet Castiel’s thrusts, drinking in the warm, heady musk coming from Cas, and the delicious friction. Muscles starting to burn, Sam let his legs go and Castiel let out a frustrated growl at that. Cas reached between them, taking both of them in hand as he leaned on one arm while leaving hickies down Sam’s chest, jerking the both of them off. The bed started to shake even more from their pleasure, but also from the power within Sam showing.

The pain of the love bites and the teasing pull of Castiel’s hand held Sam just at the precipice of orgasm.

Cas licked Sam’s left nipple and Sam was gone, swearing as he came, shooting between both of them. Speeding up his hand, Castiel quickly followed Sam, biting down hard on Sam’s pec, not far above his nipple. Sam hissed as Cas did that, but also spurted out a second little dribble of come, balls aching. The bed dropped a little, settling on the floor again.

With a happy sigh, Cas slid off of Sam and reached among their things to find something to clean them both up with. He brought up his dress shirt and wiped both of them clean.

“Dude, you could have, y’know. Got a washcloth or… something.”

“Don’t want to move,” Cas admitted, “and I may have more grace than I used to, but it would be such a waste to clear up this in such a way, and miss smelling of you.” Cas smiled at Sam and snuggled up against him, making him the little spoon before awkwardly reaching over and turning off the light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologise if I haven't replied to your earlier chapter comments. I had to do a big inbox clean up without replies as I just didn't have the psychological capacity to handle replies most of these past few months.


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